


reap the whirlwind

by sweetheartbitterheart



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adult Number Five | The Boy, Aged-Up Number Five | The Boy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Number Five | The Boy, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, two damaged people coming together and chasing each other's shadows away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:09:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetheartbitterheart/pseuds/sweetheartbitterheart
Summary: When Vanya comes to after time traveling, high on adrenaline and her own power, she only does what she thinks she must to protect herself. They struck first, she's only defending herself.When Five comes to after time traveling, running on empty, he's more determined than ever to fix things and desperate enough to finally be honest with Vanya after all their years apart.But just because you love someone doesn't guarantee things will be any easier.written for fiveya week day 5: guilt
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 86
Kudos: 245
Collections: fiveya week (round 2)





	1. my love, i am the speed of sound

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so excited/nervous to finally share this story! this is set at the end of s1 where when Five took them all back in time it was only far back enough to the day of Reginald's funeral. things are gonna get dark before they get better.
> 
> it's heavily inspired by a Neko Case song and Faith's story arc on Buffy. i really wanted to write something about Vanya's trauma because the s2 writers didn't bother doing that 🙄
> 
> this will either be four or five chapters depending on how the last half pans out.

_My love, I am the speed of sound  
I left them motherless, fatherless  
Their souls dangling inside-out from their mouths  
But it's never enough  
I want you  
**This Tornado Loves You - Neko Case**_

  


Once she lets the feelings in, it is almost absurdly easy to let them consume her.

Vanya stands upright on shaky legs. Everything feels too bright and too loud. Squinting, her eyes slowly focus on a sofa in the room, and she realizes she's back at the mansion, in the sitting room. First comes the confusion, then the panic.

There is still a faint glow to her skin, along with some ringing in her right ear. No longer is she wearing her suit but instead the outfit she had on eight days ago. She can hear some distant groaning but she doesn't let it distract her. She has no motive beyond her music, no treacherous scheme to accomplish. She's not a villain in that sense. She had only wanted to be seen and heard, only wanted a light shone on her talent for once.

But that was taken away from her.

The recognition she had finally captured had been ripped away from her.

Her eyes land on the ones she's supposed to call siblings, all five of them, spread out on the floor surrounding her. The small, meek part of Vanya cries out to comfort them, wanting to rush to her only sister and cradle her in her arms. Timid Vanya has always been pathetic, starved for affection too long that she'd take any measly bit thrown her way.

The White Violin, on the other hand, has no such patience for sentimentality. She is the stronger one now, unleashed and perched to maintain control. She can finally protect Vanya from these undeserving, selfish creatures.

She watches as they slowly wake, readying herself for another attack, positioning her body so she can make a quick escape if need be.

Allison, good soldier Number Three, moves first. She slowly stands, feet stumbling, and looks up at Vanya and her silver eyes. Her hands clutch her throat and she breathes a sigh of relief at the lack of bandage there.

"Vanya," she says uneasily, trying to keep composure. If she stays a calm presence then maybe things might be alright.

Wind begins billowing around the room. A storm of Vanya's own creation. "Vanya," she says louder.

The White Violin tilts her head while Vanya panics on the inside, crying and pleading. But doesn't she know she's doing this for Vanya's own protection? Her family was going to kill her. The White Violin is trying to ensure their survival.

Allison is talking and talking, "-know that you're hurting. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't… We didn't mean it. I love you, Vanya."

"Stop!" The shout rips from Vanya's throat.

By now, her brothers are awake, scattered around the two women, unable to move forward from the force of the wind Vanya's created. They must truly think her stupid and emotional by the way they're acting. As if she can't see them planning to ambush her again. As if she would let any of them close enough to her ever again.

She makes eye contact with Luther and sneers. Vanya inside lets that betrayal settle over her heart.

The anger and the resentment and the guilt is awakening in Vanya. Her power swirls and thickens, filling her with energy that feels right and clean and irresistibly good.

"Now!" Luther shouts but before he or Diego or even Klaus can step forward, Vanya raises a hand and all three men go limp and then flying backwards. Slammed against the wall and landing hard on the floor.

Allison stares at her, wide-eyed and anxious.

Good, The White Violin smirks, she should cower in fear.

She looks like she wants to speak again but she glances at something over Vanya's shoulder that raises her eyebrows. Vanya almost turns around herself until she remembers she's in danger and turning her back on an enemy would be a fatal mistake.

Although she has her suspicions about what it is.

It's as Five comes to stand to his full height that he realizes he's no longer in a teenage body. It's also not his middle-aged one either. Awareness of his limbs hitting him in a rush. Everything is intact. The suit he had time-traveled back wearing hangs off him, not as it had in his thirteen year old body but definitely ill-fitted. Huh, his body feels adult. He guesses in the general late thirties-early forties range. The look on Allison's face only further confirms that he's not thirteen anymore.

He doesn't have time to theorize about why he's landed in this body at the moment though. He takes in his surroundings, carefully cataloguing the unconscious bodies of his brothers as well as Vanya's stance and Allison's pleading look. A knot of anxiety coils in his gut.

Not again. Not again. Not again.

Despite the crackling energy in the room, the winds caused only by Vanya's emotions, Five teleports right into the eye of her storm.

"Vanya," he says evenly.

He's not looking at her with fear like their brothers or with pity like Allison. It is achingly soft. The Vanya inside whimpers, cries out more earnestly, The White Violin will not let her get fooled again. No matter the fondness, the softness she has for this one, because he also ambushed her. He also tried to kill her. They cannot forget.

Five takes a step forward and Vanya takes a step back.

"Hey, it's over, Vanya. Look at me," he continues, softening his voice. The wind picks up, tousling his once neatly styled hair. "Vanya, you're not alone anymore. You're safe," he tries but she only frowns. Her face is an angry wall. "Vanya, please," he tries again.

It's the _please_ that has her pause. Five never says please. He never say things unless he means them. He always picks his words with careful precision. The look on his face now, a combination of tenderness and discomfort, and the gentle tone of voice he's using, is only further causing her torment.

The White Violin's control shakes just enough that timid little Vanya can burst through.

"You left!" she suddenly yells, voice trembling. "You just… left me," she flounders, anger melting away into hurt.

Wind whips around them, swaying them towards each other. It picks up momentarily before beginning to slow down.

"I know," he agrees, putting his hands up in a placating gesture, "Vanya, I know, and I shouldn't have."

Her eyes still ringed with silver fill with tears.

"I'm sorry. You have to know how sorry I am for leaving."

The wind dies down a little more. The White Violin is raging on the inside but Vanya feels her heart fill with stone. Her sadness bigger than her anger at the moment.

"I don't… Why?" she manages to get out.

Realization dawns on him then as he takes in the conflicting emotions across her face. "Vanya, you must know why. I don't hide from you. I never have."

A shaky smile spreads across his now very adult face and more than anything Vanya wants to smile back but she still feels too frayed, too raw, _too much, too much, too much_.

She is too lost in emotions and memories to notice how much closer Five has gotten to her. He stands directly in front of her now, despite the rampant winds surrounding them both.

"You said I was your sole confidant," he recites from her book, "You were mine too."

His hands touch hers so gently, so unlike the calculated killer he's become. Too overwhelmed by the gesture, she lets him. She lets his fingers trace her calluses and tries to guess his thoughts just from the look in his eyes. She used to be able to read him so well. The White Violin gnaws against the torrent of emotions inside her.

They continue to stare at each other. The rest of their family forgotten around them. Five's hands have come to hold her wrists. Reluctantly, she breaks eyes contact to watch the way his fingers brush along her pulse point, and she catches a glimpse of his umbrella tattoo. Agony fills her, agony that grows darker and more heated. She wants to dig her nails into his skin. Five keeps a firm grip on her though so her efforts to inflict pain only incite desperation in his face.

"Vanya, I love-" he starts, his voice dropped down to a near whisper.

"No!" she shouts.

Her power ripples out in a burst of white light, pushing Five backwards. He jumps at the last second but not too far. Now he stands a little to the left of Vanya. He sees from his periphery that Allison had been knocked to the ground from the force of Vanya's powers but is slowly standing back up.

Five makes a frustrated noise, "Van-"

It's too late. It's not enough. Vanya's aching, cracked heart cannot take this any longer. She embraces the rage and the bitterness, lets it flow through her veins again so that The White Violin can stand center stage once more.

She now scoffs at this thrice doomed man. "You think you're the exception?"

Five looks stricken for a moment before schooling his features into bland acceptance. Although his eyes betray him. Vanya can see the deep pain and guilt etched in them.

"You were mine," he admits, voice low.

She shakes her head. "Shut up!"

"Oh, but you were," Five continues, raising his voice.

Allison watches this exchange in silent astonishment, holding out hope that Five's tenacious nature and love for Vanya will break through her sister's misery.

Vanya is shaking her head, pulling her hands up to cover her ears.

He just speaks louder, "If the old man even knew just how much I…" he swallows, "How much… I _love_ you, how much time we actually spent together. He would've sent you off to boarding school. He would've done anything to keep us separated."

Five has never been talented at communicating, at talking of his feelings, even before getting stranded in the apocalypse and then becoming an assassin. He had simply accepted it as a skill long lost to him. But he can't look at Vanya now and not let his deepest feelings out. Even with her causing the end of the world.

Time is a cruel mistress to punish him this way. If he had just stayed, if he had never jumped to the future, if he had stuck by her side this last week, would that have made all the difference? Five has always thought highly of himself, and maybe highly enough that he could stop the apocalypse just by tenacity alone.

Except that wasn't how it went down.

Because Vanya _was_ the apocalypse.

The irony is not lost on him that the dearest person to him is the one who has unknowingly caused him the most torment. They are tethered by a terrible tragedy.

A much stronger force of wind picks up again, tripping Five up. He jumps just barely in time to miss the chair flying at him. He stands behind Vanya now, glancing briefly at Allison, who is frowning. He can see the question in her eyes, to use her rumor or not. He shakes his head discreetly and she nods back. A rumor would only make this worse.

Vanya spins around, so much anguish on her face. He has never seen her hurting this badly before. It's as though the pain is bleeding out of her, threatening to swallow them all.

He tries an apology again, "Vanya, I'm s-"

"No! Stop saying that! Stop it! Just stop it!" she bellows, the force of her shout causing the wall of the room to begin crumbling. "You all tried to kill me! You all wish I was dead!"

Five moves a little closer, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

Vanya doesn't seem to really notice, too swept up in her hurt. Her face contorted into an anguished cry, she continues to rant, "You want to hurt me! But I won't let you! Leonard thought he could too but he was wrong." At that name, Five snarls, but Vanya is still speaking, "He didn't even come close to hurting me. Even with Dad's journal." She practically spits out that last word.

Dad's journal? The gears in Five's brain turn and turn trying to understand that. Why the fuck did that bastard have something of Dad's?

Some foundation from the ceiling falls down leaving dust on Vanya's hair and Five's shoulders.

Maybe if he just grabbed a hold of her he could calm her down. If his words won't soothe, maybe his touch will. He can so clearly remember the last time he hugged Vanya, so many years ago. She'd had a nightmare and come to his room pleading to share his bed, and of course he let her. There weren't many things he'd deny her. He'd wrapped his arms around her tight, pulled her against his chest, uncaring of her hair tickling his nose. He kept her warm and safe against him, their heartbeats falling in sync.

He looks at her face now, trying to find the girl he left behind, but all he sees is anger and resentment.

He straightens his shoulders, advancing on her. His next teleport is an aborted effort though because Vanya has put up some kind of force field around herself. Five is a little too astounded by the extent of her powers to notice Allison approaching Vanya.

"No, no, Vanya, no one wants you dead. We just want to help. Please," Allison begs, tears falling freely down her face.

The Vanya inside who has only ever wanted love, from her siblings, from her father, has fallen silent now. She is too numb to fight off the bright hot rage of The White Violin. She lifts a hand, Allison braces for pain, and brings the ceiling of the sitting room down upon them.

Five has just enough time to teleport to Allison, gripping her tightly and jumping them to a corner of the room free of falling debris.

"You're alright?" he asks.

Allison nods, a little dazed, "Vanya?"

Five scans the room, takes note of his brothers twitching bodies, but there is no sign of Vanya in the chaos. He jumps to the hole she created in the side of the mansion and peers outside. But she's nowhere. There isn't even a path of destruction to follow.

Five stands among the wreckage and lets his failure wash over him yet again.

"She's gone."

-

Vanya wanders from street to street, her feet gradually picking up pace. She is being hunted, is she not? Her siblings – no, not siblings, The White Violin sneers. The illustrious Umbrella Academy will surely be on her heels.

The thought of returning to her own apartment blinds her for a moment. As she begins making her way there, she's struck by the notion of them cornering her there too. Of course, they'll look for her at her own home. She can't be so stupid to go there.

Vanya stops in an alleyway several blocks from the academy on the verge of a panic attack. Clouds are gathering above her and raindrops begin falling down on her, mingling with the sweat on the back of her neck. A taxi speeds by honking at another car causing the ringing in her ear to flare up.

A few cracks of thunder resonate above.

She tries to stifle the wounded noise from her throat, even though there is no one around to hear anyway. Alone again, as always. She rests a hand on the wall of the building in front of her, the brick beneath her hand beginning to crack.

There is nowhere for her to go, no one to run to who would take her in and keep her safe. Vanya braces both hands on the wall now, trying to ease her breathing and slow her racing heart. Adrenaline is slowly leaving her system. Sliding down to the ground, she braces for a night of sleeping in this cold alleyway.

Leonard briefly flashes in her mind but blood rushes in her ears, the rage monumental. She pounds a fist against the brick wall, barely noticing the pain in her knuckles or the blood dripping down her hand.

Thunder cracks once more.

Five always promised to keep her safe, didn't he? Her traitorous mind prods. Five claims to love her. But Five also left, didn't he? He left without a second thought or glance towards her. If he cared for her at all, he would've taken her with him, wouldn't he have? He only ever took pity on her. Poor pathetic Number Seven, of no use to anyone.

She didn't need any more pity. She didn't need to be coddled. She certainly didn't need to be saved. From whom? Herself. She's finally in control.

Tomorrow, she will look for better shelter. Tomorrow, when her head is a little clearer. She will find somewhere safe, where no one knows her or her duplicitous family, where she can lick her wounds in private and formulate a plan.


	2. the metal i am made of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who read/commented/kudos on the first chapter!!

_I show you the metal I am made of  
Show you exactly what you've been afraid of  
My hand's to God to save her  
How do I save? I've so much to pay for  
**Hand to God - Thao & the Get Down Stay Down**_

  


Between the two of them, Five and Allison are able to pull their siblings out of the rubble Vanya rained down on them in a reasonable amount of time. Five is tremendously grateful for having an adult body.

Diego is the first to come around. He glares up at them, arms pitched for a fight. "Did she destroy the place again?" he asks through a slight cough.

"No," Five answers, "Just this room, fortunately."

Diego stares at him, a frown forming between his brows. "Five?"

He sighs. They don't have time for this. "Obviously," he bites out.

Diego turns to Allison, asking for confirmation or just wanting to share his bewilderment. She nods at him before turning back to shake Luther awake.

A loud groan suddenly reverberates throughout the room signaling Klaus' release from unconsciousness.

"I'm not dead again, am I?" is the first thing out of his mouth.

Five kicks him in the foot. "No, you're not." _Whatever the hell that means._

Klaus looks up at him from the floor, tilting his head slightly before a grin spreads across his face. For someone who had just been buried under some rubble, he stands up with surprising finesse.

"Aw, you're all grown up now, Fivey," he coos, going in for a hug or a kiss, Five can't tell exactly which and he doesn't want to find out.

Swiftly, he teleports from the sitting room to the kitchen before Klaus can reach him. Assuming the others will follow him there, Five starts making himself a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. Time traveling himself and five other people had taken much more energy from him than the last time he did it alone. He's admittedly feeling a little burnt out.

There is a pang in his chest remembering making this sandwich in a week that no longer exists. He can see Vanya's face so clearly in his mind as she watched him do it. The disbelief and the longing, and he had just wanted to grab her hand and assure her that yes, he really was back, and once his mission was completed, they could talk. They could learn to be close again.

So much for that.

Five is in the middle of making his second sandwich when the rest of the family ambles in.

Luther eyes Five with curiosity and mild annoyance, "So, Five, what now?"

Before Five can respond, Diego cuts in, "We have to find Vanya." He glances over to Five, "Right?"

Allison takes a seat at the table and gives Five an expectant look. Klaus throws himself into the chair across from her.

There are too many variables in play and Five needs to know as many of them as he can if they're going to find Vanya and help her, if they're all going to survive. The mention of Dad's journal has not stopped rolling around in his head since Vanya said it. How exactly did that fall into Jenkins' grimy hands?

"Vanya said something about Dad's journal, that Jenkins had it. Do you any of you know anything about that?" Five inquires, raising his eyebrows.

Allison still looks stricken as she shakes her head. Luther and Diego each looked confused, but Klaus' reaction is the most curious to Five. He shifts a little in his seat, averting his gaze to his hands in his lap.

Five takes a step forward. "Klaus."

( _Unbeknownst to their family, Ben is currently glaring at Klaus. Frustration and annoyance soaring through him. "Klaus, what the hell?" He doesn't want to berate Klaus, not much anyway, not now, because Ben can clearly see the guilt and regret on his face._ )

Allison is now giving Klaus a critical look. "The day of the funeral I found you in Dad's study. You said you were snooping around for our inheritance."

Here is where Klaus looks incredibly guilty. His shoulders drooping as he scratches at his thumbnail. Five's already limited patience is wearing even thinner now.

Klaus runs a shaky hand through his hair. "I had no idea, okay? I found a stupid book in Dad's study and when I saw there was nothing expensive or useful in it, I threw it away," he admits, finally raising his gaze to Five's. His face contorted into a painful expression. "Pogo found me the next day, told me about the missing journal and I looked for it in the dumpster, I swear. Ben was there too! You even saw me, Five! But it was gone and then I just didn't think about it again."

Five takes in all this information with angry silence.

"You know I didn't mean for it to fall into that psycho's hands, right? I mean, come on…" Klaus continues, looking frantic now in the space of his siblings silence.

"It's not great, Klaus," Diego points out.

"Sure!" Klaus readily agrees, "But it's not a straight cause and effect."

Diego just sighs.

Five is barely listening. His mind working over how Jenkins got Dad's journal then set his sights on Vanya, how he manipulated her, how he turned her against them all.

Allison watches him, brow furrowed, hand to her throat, running her fingers along where Vanya had previously sliced it. She is trying to rein in her guilt and rebuild her courage to share the terrible thing she did as a child.

She clears her throat, gaining her brothers attention. "There's something else."

Five angles towards her, eyes hyper focused, assessing. Another variable he needs to rectify this horrible situation. Allison is an adult, a very messy one who has made tremendous mistakes, but she is trying to make amends. There is something in Five's gaze that makes her feel like a child all over again, about to be reprimanded by dear old dad.

Briefly, she wonders if Five is aware of the mannerisms he shares with their adoptive father. She wonders how angry he would get if she pointed this out.

Her voice already thick with emotion, she begins, "You remember when we were about four when Vanya got sick and she had to be quarantined."

"No," Diego and Klaus say together, and Luther just looks confused.

But Five nods, "Vaguely."

"Well, she wasn't exactly sick. Dad just had her locked away downstairs in the basement. Her powers… were too much for him. I think he couldn't control her," Allison takes a deep breath, tears gathering in her eyes, "And he made me an accomplice. He had me rumor her, that she was just ordinary." She holds her gaze to Five's, awaiting the judgment he'll surely give her.

He has always regarded Vanya as something else, something _precious_. It had frustrated her as a child, why Five, the most arrogant and ambitious of them all, Dad's star pupil, paid attention to Vanya at all. But now after seeing how the two of them just reacted to each other, Allison thinks it's safe to say that Five loves Vanya in a way she acutely understands.

Five's shoulders tense; his voice low. "Did you know the whole time?"

"No," Allison stresses, "I had forgotten. But then at the cabin when I saw her powers, it came back. I told her and it only made things worse. I apologized but she was so angry and so hurt. I-I…" It's difficult to get the next words out. "I was afraid that Jenkins was going to come back and hurt her, so I was going to rumor her again, to get her to leave with me." She's surprised she's even able to speak through her tears. Her second deepest shame nearly choking her.

"But she stopped me. She protected herself against someone who was about to hurt her again." Allison has accepted her part in this, in causing harm to someone she loves. It's strange now, knowing and recognizing just how much she loves Vanya.

How many more of her loved ones will she hurt?

"Allison," Luther breathes next to her, his big hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

She keeps her eyes on Five, bracing for his temper, but she's surprised when he only frowns, turning away from her completely. The dismissal in his eyes almost hurts more.

Klaus whistles, "Wow, we really are a fucked up bunch, huh?"

"Yeah," Diego agrees, before turning to Luther with a calculating gleam in his eyes, "And it almost makes what you did, Luther, even worse."

All at once the air in the room seems to get sucked out.

Allison and Klaus share a look then turn to watch Five process what Diego's just said. Klaus had almost forgotten Five wasn't there when Luther showed them where he'd locked Vanya up in the basement torture chamber.

Five's gaze falls on Luther now; eyes narrowed and shoulders gearing up for a fight. "Feel like enlightening me, Number One?"

It should be said that Luther is brave to stand in front of a man who has lost so much, sacrificed so much, who is barely containing his much warranted anger, and not cower.

"Pogo informed me of Vanya's powers, what she was capable of, and how Dad put measures in place in case she got out of control." At every word Luther says, Five's face takes on a darker look, "There's a soundproof chamber in the basement. When Vanya came here, I did what I had to do to protect everyone."

"You mean protect Allison," Diego corrects, smug smile on his face.

"It was for everyone's safety!" argues Luther.

"Yeah, look how well that turned out," Klaus comments wryly.

Diego takes a step towards Luther, tilting his head condescendingly, "I never asked, but how exactly did you get Vanya down there?"

That question actually causes Luther to look ashamed. He lowers his gaze, his big shoulders hunching up, trying to make himself appear smaller.

"Luther?" Allison gently prods.

He turns to her. It seems the only way he can get these words out is by looking at Allison. "She came here to see you. I think to apologize. She was crying so I put my arms out and she… fell into them. I just hugged her tighter and tighter until she went limp," he says solemnly but matter-of-factly.

He talks of suffocating and imprisoning Vanya as if she were a mission. Allison bites her cheek at the notion. As if Vanya did not grow up in this house of horrors with them.

It's strange as he speaks now that all Luther can focus on is how that was the first and only time that he can ever remember hugging Vanya.

Fresh tears fall down Allison's face and she shakes her head, horrified and sad.

The room is taut with tension.

"You hugged her until she suffocated," says Klaus in disbelief. Behind him, Ben is shaking in disgust.

Diego has gone from gleeful comeuppance to stunned horror. His brain is still having a hard time coming to terms with Vanya having powers, and with those newfound powers accidentally hurting Allison and killing her boyfriend. She had come back to the house to apologize, to find safety and Luther just locked her up like Dad had done. No wonder she's so angry. It's in this realization that Diego finds himself relating to Vanya. He understands an all-encompassing anger.

As he stares at his family, Five has to remind himself that he loves them. He really, truly does, but he's also disappointed and angry. His rage is a quiet thing, simmering beneath the surface, awaiting to be set free. He's given up so much, just to get back to them. He's thrown away whatever was left of his morals, killed so many people, debased himself in ways he never thought possible, all in the belief that he would get back to his family and save them.

Foolishly, he thought he might get to finally voice his deepest desire, his love for Vanya, even if there was no hope of it being returned.

But alas, that still stays a fruitless endeavor.

Awkwardly, Luther clears his throat, "Five, you understand, right? You're a pragmatist?"

Five levels an unimpressed look at his brother. He produces a guttural noise of disgust and in a dangerously low voice says, "Do _not_ loop me into your shit, Luther."

In return, Luther looks a little wounded and chastised.

Allison decides to redirect the growing tension, refocusing everyone on the most important matter. "What should we do now?" she asks Five.

"Find Vanya!" Diego yells exasperatedly.

"Fuck, if I was her, I wouldn't want anything to do with us," Klaus adds.

"That doesn't matter! We need to find her and help her," Diego stresses, a strange sort of desperation rising in his voice. Five wonders if it's genuine concern for Vanya or just his hero complex. He doesn't care to find out.

Five teleports from the kitchen to his bedroom. Only a few minutes later and Allison is bursting through his door.

He gives her a sidelong glance.

"What are you thinking?" she asks impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm thinking I'm going to kill Harold Jenkins," he says plainly.

Allison barely reacts, which honestly surprises him a little bit, he was expecting at least _some_ pushback.

"We have an advantage. This is a week we've all already lived through. As uncomfortable as it may be at times, we stick together. We can fix it. The variables are all there, I just need to work it out," he explains, nodding to himself.

For one moment, Fives feels like he's a kid again, sharing his theories out loud, albeit with a different sister.

Allison nods, "Okay. I'll go to Vanya's apartment, and the theater maybe. Track down some leads?"

It takes Five a second to realize Allison is checking in with him like he's the one leading a mission. It unsettles him.

"No, not yet," he frowns, "Stay here and keep those idiots from making any more dumb decisions."

Because after himself, Allison is definitely the smartest person of this doomsday cult they were raised in.

"Five, we have to find her as soon as possible," she emphasizes as if his every thought isn't about Vanya, as if his entire being isn't bleeding with longing.

He gives her an exasperated look. "I know that, Allison."

She opens her mouth to argue but he teleports to Klaus' room picking up a few random articles of clothing hoping to piece together something. He throws on a mostly clean pair of black jeans and almost takes a t-shirt before realizing it's a crop top and decides to stick with his ill-fitting button down. When he blinks back into his bedroom, Allison is glaring at him.

"You-"

He cuts her off, "I'll take care of Jenkins then take care of finding Vanya."

His mind is already moving onto the next thing, "We need to look into the local atmospheric radar. Barometer? Decibel meter? No, no, maybe…" he trails off when he sees the puzzlement on Allison's face. "Obviously, you don't understand what I'm talking about."

She quirks an eyebrow.

"We need something that measures sound pressure. That way, we'll know if… _when_ Vanya's powers act up again."

Allison nods slowly, taking the information in. Before Five can teleport again, she latches onto his arm. "What if you go to Jenkins' house and Vanya's already killed him again?"

"I'll be able to congratulate her in person."

She rolls her eyes tiredly, "Five."

There's many meanings in the way Allison says his name, but he can't do this now. He can't have a heart-to-heart with Allison, especially not this instance. She's looking at him oddly soft and concerned. He hates it. He wants to snap his teeth at her. He's sure she's already figured out his feelings after his little display downstairs. Laying his old, scarred heart out for Vanya to feast upon.

But there's a difference between knowing something and saying something. Five would rather stay keep these things in silent uncertainty for the time being.

"Maybe this is my penance," he laughs humorlessly and Allison frowns in confusion. "For leaving," he adds, the _Vanya_ is left unspoken.

Allison feels her heart give a lurch.

The restrained frustration and guilt on Five's face sears her. She finds herself feeling a kinship with him. They are the ones who left. They reached for bigger and better things which only caused them more loneliness. Too proud and ambitious to truly see what they were leaving behind. The longing only made worse by the fact that they had to live with the decisions they've made.

Hand to her throat, Allison watches as her brother teleports away to commit a murder. On their sister's behalf or to satiate his own vindictiveness, she doesn't know.

-

It's dark when Five lands outside of Harold Jenkins' house on 147 Murillo. He rolls his shoulders as he saunters up to the door, knocking courteously just for the hell of it. Jenkins opens the door, thinly veiled annoyance on his smarmy face, and forgoing his original plan Five strikes him with a punch. The man stumbles backwards which allows Five to enter his home, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Jenkins starts sputtering out pleas but the blood has already rushed to Five's ears. He leans over this pitiful man squirming on the floor trying to edge away from him. This man who thought himself a threat.

How unfortunate for him that Five just happens to be a bigger predator.

"Nuh uh," he tsks, "Not so fast."

Five had painful plans to make Jenkins suffer, to make him writher in pain, to gleefully take him apart, but just staring at this pathetic fool accelerates his heart and he itches to act. There is a sick satisfaction in wrapping his bare hands around the man's throat, squeezing and squeezing until his lungs give out. He tries to scratch at Five's arms but Five is stronger and has more experience in this particular task.

It is almost embarrassing how quick Harold Jenkins' demise is, but Five still takes some delight in it.

After comes the messy parts. The parts he won't necessarily enjoy but they must be done.

He cuts out Jenkins' eye purely for some poetic symmetry, before he carves up the man's face, leaving it unrecognizable. He flies down his fingerprints until they're nothing and pulls all his teeth out.

When it's done, Five is caked in blood and viscera. He fishes some beer out from the back of Jenkins' fridge and downs a few bottles. It's some disgusting craft shit and barely does the job. He rummages around the cupboards until he finds a bottle of cheap wine which he also greedily consumes.

Once his hands are steady again, he takes a deep breath, because this last part is the most important, the most delicate.

He has to dispose of the body.

-

It is quiet in the mansion when Five comes back, entering through the kitchen.

He was expecting Allison or Luther, maybe both of them, to confront him upon his return so he's surprised it's Diego waiting for him. He's perched at the kitchen table, eating cereal straight out of the box.

They look at each other.

Diego takes in his bloodied appearance and nods to himself. He finishes chewing his Captain Crunch, "So the Harold Jenkins problem has been taken care of. What'd you do with the body?"

Five grunts, bored already with this conversation and it's hardly started yet. "It's nowhere anybody will be able to find it," he replies neutrally, "Glad to see Allison brought you all up to date."

"She rumored us to stay inside until tomorrow."

A startled chuckle crawls out of Five's throat.

"Was that your idea?" Diego accuses but Five doesn't dignify it with a response.

Diego huffs, "Well, while you were off playing psycho killer, we had to figure out an explanation for Pogo."

Oh, right. _Pogo._

Five frowns, "What did you come up with?"

"We told him we knew about Vanya's powers, but not about the apocalypse or the time travel."

Five nods. He doesn't know what to do with the knowledge that Pogo knew of Vanya's powers all their lives and simply watched their father numb her. Five had always been steadfast in the belief that Pogo loved them the same as he was in the belief that their father didn't. It stirs up anger and disappointment to think of Pogo denying Vanya a core part of herself in some guise for the greater good.

Diego throws a piece of cereal that lands square in his forehead. "Are you even listening to me?"

"No."

Suddenly Diego stands up, stalking towards Five. They're close in height now but Five has a few inches on him, which amuses him and obviously annoys Diego.

It's clear he wants to poke Five in the chest or some other posturing male aggression but he refrains from acting on it.

Diego has a thoughtful expression on his face as he speaks, "Allison told us you said we need to stick together and I agree, after all that shit that went down last week. Averting the apocalypse and helping Vanya is the priority, but you got a plan?"

Five makes something of a noncommittal noise. The perimeters of a plan are shaping together in his mind but he still needs time. What he doesn't need is Diego making a mess because he's so keen to play hero.

"I want in."

Five eyes his brother. There's definite eagerness in his gaze, but also something akin to regret and guilt.

"Suffering from a guilty conscience?" Five baits.

"What about you? Don't you feel guilty?" counters Diego.

Of course he does, but he's not about to tell Diego that.

Five brushes past Diego, purposely bumping his shoulder. "I need to clean up," he says tersely.

"You know you can put the blame on the rest of us all you want. But deep down, you shoulder some of that blame too and you _know_ it. You're responsible for this as much as we are."

Vanya being the literal apocalypse might be the universe's way of calling him a colossal failure, punishing him for his hubris. Taking the one good thing he's ever allowed himself to want and breaking her down until she's unrecognizable, until she burnt herself up enough to burn the world too.

He knows it's bad when Diego, of all people, can read him so thoroughly.

Five is torn between throttling Diego or ignoring him altogether for the sake of a shower when Allison enters the room.

"Good, you're back," she says to Five, all business, and he is deeply grateful.

"Yes?" Five says through gritted teeth, turning to her.

Allison gives him a once over and he can see the worry seeping through her gaze the longer she looks at him. He narrows his eyes and flexes his hands.

Her mouth forms a fine line, but she appears to be saving the concern for later, "I rumored the weatherman at the KCVB news station. He's looking out for any unusual sound waves or storm fronts. I'm his first contact if anything shows up."

A look of admiration spreads across his face, which has not happened in some time. "At least someone else in this family is competent," he remarks dryly.

Allison smirks, "You're welcome."

Five's lips quirk a little and Allison counts it as a thank you.

Diego looks between the two of them. "So what, the plan's waiting on the weatherman?" he asks, unimpressed.

Five sighs heavily, closing his eyes, and Allison can see the exhaustion weighing on his shoulders. Diego opens his mouth to ask something else but Five blinks out of the room.

He lands in one of the bathrooms upstairs, suddenly desperate to remove all traces of Harold Jenkins from the world. Catching his eye in the mirror, he refamiliarizes himself with his adult face, covered in blood as it is.

It's as he removes his shirt that he remembers the tracker in his arm. Furiously, he rummages through the cabinet until he finds a pair of medical scissors and digs into the skin of his forearm. The tracker pops out and he crushes it beneath his feet.

It's strange, he has not caught any sight of The Commission in this timeline at all. He will need to stay vigilant.

Gripping the sink, he tries to remind himself that there's still time. All is not lost. Vanya is out there. They can find her. _He_ can find her.

-

Vanya wakes to clear sky but not a clearer mind.

Every noise she can pick out makes her head throb. She blinks a few times, reacquainting herself with her surroundings. She's outside, on the ground, in an alleyway. Klaus briefly filters through her thoughts. Memories come to the forefront of her mind over worrying about him passing out in alleyways, too drunk or too high to care about his own wellbeing.

Not that he ever cared that she cared.

None of them ever did. Vanya tried time after time, even after Five left, to reach out, to connect but it was never wanted. Her love was useless. What she learned growing up is that love is transactional and conditional. In order to receive love, she must offer something in return. Everything she's ever tried to give has never been good enough.

Her chest gives a pitiful ache. Allison said that she loves her though. Vanya can't trust it because what could Allison possibly gain from loving Vanya? It's a joke, a ruse, a plot to entrap her.

What was so unlovable about her as a child that has smoothed over enough that she's worthy of it now?

Except, Five said that he loves her too, that he always loved her. She bites her lip so that she won't scream. She wants to cry out, to claw at her arms, because it's been so long, too long. It's too late. Time has warped them both so much.

Vanya is afraid to admit that she does not know how to love. All the tenderness has been squeezed from her heart.

She shakes her head. She is not going to tug on that thread until she has somewhere safer to stay.

It takes a few tries for her to stand up steady, but slowly she ambles out from the alley onto the sidewalk. She takes a deep breath and listens to the drag of her heart, letting it guide her steps. She wanders for a while, in a daze, getting further away from the academy.

It begins drizzling and Vanya looks to the sky to see storm clouds gathering. She had thought she wanted a storm to match her rage but a shiver runs down her spine at the sight.

When she realizes she's standing in front of the public library, she makes her way to the front entrance. Here is somewhere she can hide. She can sit in a quiet corner where no one will bother her. She can think and plan. Her feet lead her up the stairs. She passes by the history section and the fiction section before spotting a lone armchair along a back wall in the non-fiction area. Vanya sinks into the seat, hands clenching the arms of the chair. She picks up a discarded newspaper from the side table and stares blankly at the printed words, unable to retain anything.

Outside the drizzle becomes a downpour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize that this chapter is mostly an information dump but like Five had to learn about the circumstances that led to Vanya unleashing all her powers. i also apologize that Five and Vanya didn't interact in this chapter but they ARE thinking about each other.
> 
> also, i realized in writing this chapter that i suck at writing anything to do with the Commission, so essentially this is set in a timeline where they no longer care about Five stopping the apocalypse since he killed The Handler.
> 
> i'm planning to have chapter three up in the next couple days 😁 please comment i'm very insecure


	3. encircle me, i need to be taken down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for taking some time to update but i struggled a bit with this chapter and even now i'm not crazy about it.
> 
> this chapter is dedicated to [ellaphunt19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellaphunt19) and [fiveyaaas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyaaas) because if it wasn't for talking with you guys i don't know if i would've finished this or even been around. you guys are so sweet and kind. you've given me such good insight and advice and i feel very grateful for you both.
> 
> WARNING: this chapter includes self-harm and suicidal thoughts/ideation, so please take care of yourself. if you find anything triggering just know you don't have to read it

_I imagine you when I was distant, non-insistent  
I follow suit and laid out on my back, imagine that  
A million hours left to think of you and think of that  
**The Con - Tegan and Sara**_

  
Five has spent the night working up equations pertaining to what's happening with the Commission and why none of their agents have come knocking. The closest conclusion he gets comes to is that when he brought them all back in time, they must've slid into a similar but ultimately different universe. A universe where the Commission doesn't care that Five is determined to stop the impending apocalypse.

It appears that not only did they time travel, but they also dimensionally travelled.

The first rays of sunlight crawl across his floor but he pays no mind. It's the sounds of unsteady feet and groggy yawns, signs of his family waking up, that give him pause. He knows one – or all of them, truthfully – will pester him about what the next steps are. As much as he's pleased that they're taking him seriously this time, he's still angry.

Deep in his mind, Five knows it's also anger at himself. Guilt too, but he can't examine that right now.

Quickly, before anyone can interrupt him, he jumps from his room to the side alleyway. He gets in Reginald's car and sets off to survey some areas. A thought of going to Vanya's apartment comes to him. Just to check. Just to see if she'd really go back there, even though she knows they're looking for her.

She's probably scared.

She's angry and lashing out.

She's _powerful_.

He can't forget that now.

If Five doesn't find her soon, he will just have to tear time and space apart again to reverse the damage and keep her close.

-

Vanya has always been good at hiding, at going unnoticed. _At being forgotten_ , The White Violin whispers viciously in her mind.

It is easy for her to hide among the stacks when the library begins closing. She meanders along dispassionately, brushing her fingers against the spines of books. A fog descending over her mind.

She finds a corner on the third floor and curls up on a sofa, wrapping her arms around her trembling body. Her clothes still stick a bit to her skin, still a little damp from the earlier rain. She dozes fitfully. Every time she feels herself begin to drop off into a dream, her body jerks, anxiety twitching her limbs back to life.

Eventually she gives up on trying to sleep. She goes back to listlessly wandering the stacks. When she hears the sound of people in the warm light of the morning, she hides in a bathroom. 

Vanya is surprised by the sight of her own reflection. Her face is so pale, the blue of her veins visible beneath the almost translucent skin. But it's her eyes that cause her the most distress. They're mostly brown but there is also a thin ring of silver around the edges of her irises. She blinks rapidly, hoping the action will cause their color to return to normal, but it does nothing.

A small noise of frustration leaves her.

Everything feels too big, too loud, too much. Her skin feels too tight. She grits her teeth and grips her hands around the sink. She tries to take a breath but she can't seem to get any air into her lungs. Frustration builds into panic.

The room begins to shake and for a moment Vanya wants to lose herself to it. Wants to let it wash over her like a tidal wave, let the entire building crumble down atop her. Maybe the pain would assuage her guilt.

Pain, she suddenly realizes. Pain always has a way overriding other senses.

As soon as the thought occurs to her, Vanya's swelling emotions reach their peak, cracking all the mirrors in the bathroom. Shards of the mirror fall into the sink and delicately she picks up a piece before gripping tight in her fist. The sudden pain is sharp and a welcomed comfort.

She opens her palm and stares down at the blood pooling to the surface. It's easy then for her to imagine cutting through the blue and green veins in her wrists. She imagines slicing an artery and the blood pouring out from her bitter insides. She imagines feeling light and free, unburdened by this monumental guilt.

To stop a scream from crawling its way out her throat, she grips her wrist harshly, her nails leaving little crescent marks. Small marks of insufficient blood.

So while she holds a shard of glass in one hand, she brings her left hand close and swiftly begins slicing at the skin of her wrist. At first, she feels nothing. It's as though she's watching this act through a TV screen. She digs one sharp edge into her soft flesh a little deeper, hissing out a quick breath because she's finally feeling a throbbing ache that isn't coming from her own frayed emotions. This ache is physical instead of mental. It's technicolor instead of muted gray.

Blood trickles down her arm. The feeling is warm and forgiving.

-

One day turns into two and still none of them have a lead on Vanya's whereabouts.

Allison keeps going back to her apartment, digging around for clues, waiting in case Vanya does appear. She stares at Vanya's violin which sits in its case in her living room. Allison touches it once, deep sadness and deserved anger churning in her gut.

While Allison doesn't want to, it becomes necessary for her to call the Icarus and inform them that their third chair violinist has taken ill. She also receives updates from the KCVB meteorologist about weather patterns that she only partially understands. She passes the information along to Five, who when not in holed up in his room writing equations on the walls, goes out to search for Vanya in his own strange assassin ways. Allison is certain he hasn't slept more than 15 minutes at a time.

Diego and Luther attempt to fix the wreckage Vanya caused in her wake but it only leads to them arguing so Allison does the adult thing and calls a contractor to look at the damage. Both men seem annoyed with her for outmaneuvering them but she can't find the energy to care.

Allison catches Luther having a heated conversation with Pogo. When she tries to offer him comfort, he politely rebuffs her with the explanation he needs time to process things. It stings a little, but she understands. She's still processing things too.

Every phone call she makes out to LA ends with her crying on the verge of hyperventilating.

Klaus is, well, Klaus. But sober. He floats in and out of the house, occasionally going with Allison to Vanya's apartment while other times tagging along with Diego on his patrols. He seems distracted at the best of times and callous at the worst. His mind so clearly focused on something the others can't see.

It makes sense when Diego realizes it must be Ben. Klaus must be working on trying to manifest Ben, as well as the man he lost in Vietnam.

All of them tend to steer clear of Pogo, and even Mom to an extent, with the exception of Diego. It's like there's an invisible line drawn between them.

Everyone has only grown more tense and restless as day two rolls into day three of a week they've already lived through.

The one time Five uses the front entrance to return to the mansion that evening is when the rest of his family is waiting for him in the parlor. There's a tarp covering the enormous hole in the wall and a light breeze wafting through the room.

He almost spatial jumps right up to his room until he sees the beseeching looks on both Allison and Luther's faces.

"I gotta say I'm feeling a little ambushed right now," he drawls.

Klaus pipes up, "Yeah, this whole thing is giving me a bit of an intervention vibe."

"Shut up," Diego reprimands.

Klaus says something obnoxious back and Diego rises to the bait. The two begin bickering and Luther decides to chime in unhelpfully.

Every bit of rage Five thought he'd cooled flares back to life a hundredfold. He's been trying to keep it on a tightly wound leash but the fury and frustration is beginning to peter out.

"Is there a point to this?" he cuts through the irritating sounds of his brothers arguing.

Luther leans forward and speaks evenly, "We just wanted to see if you've made any progress."

Five grits his teeth and takes a deep breath.

"Yeah, we're on a significant time crunch, aren't we?" Diego presses.

Five suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. He blinks over to the bar and begins pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"Uh oh," Klaus mutters.

"Are you alright?" Allison asks, infuriating maternal concern in her tone. She approaches him gingerly, almost like she wants to hug him or some other offending display of comfort.

"I'm always alright," he mumbles, avoiding her gaze.

So in other words he _isn't_ alright.

She looks dismayed but at least she doesn't offer another comment on Five's somewhat frazzled appearance.

Turning back to the rest of her brothers, she gives them a fierce look of determination.

"Okay, as of right now none of us know where Vanya is," she clarifies, "and we have no leads."

"Clearly, she doesn't want to be found," Klaus says from his sprawling position on the sofa, "Maybe that's for the best."

Diego smacks the back of his head.

Klaus rubs the sore spot, "Ow."

Awkwardly, Luther clears his throat, drawing all eyes to him. He sees the way his siblings now give him a wide berth, save Allison. He wonders if he's irrevocably ruined his relationships with them all.

"She might be hurt, so she could've gone somewhere to get help," he says.

Five had previously considered this but ultimately shut it down. Growing up in an abusive household instilled a fear of doctors and hospitals in all of them and he doesn't think that after all these years Vanya would willingly go to a hospital, even in a fractured state of mind.

Allison gives Luther a generous look, "I called around to a few hospitals but no one who looks like Vanya has come in."

Luther deflates a little.

An uneasy silence settles over the room.

Diego cringes as he says this but it just keeps coming back to his mind and he needs to get it out, "Maybe we should consider that Vanya is… no longer with us."

A little chaos breaks loose in the form of Allison's pained gasp and Luther's sharp intake of breath. Klaus groans, whether in actual concern or annoyance, it's hard to tell. Diego did bring up death which is unfortunately his calling card. He looks to Five who is gripping his glass, avoiding eye contact with them all.

"No," Allison says stubbornly, "No, Vanya wouldn't... that's not like her."

Diego grimaces, "To be honest, Allison, none of us really know her."

She opens her mouth to argue but Diego barrels on, "You spent one week trying to bond with Vanya after years of ignoring her. How much can _you_ truly know about her?"

As he says the words out loud, Diego is slowly realizing that these are his own guilty ones. From what he remembers of his chapter in Vanya's book, it mainly focused on how scared she was of him at times, how his words could cut her deeper than any of his knives. How much he bullied her, even when she reached out in good faith, at least on her part. He's always perceived everything as an attack, only allowing himself to be vulnerable with Mom.

Even though he still feels raw about the book, he can admit he's partially to blame for their estrangement too. He ignored Vanya for years, before and after the book. He doesn't know her at all. She doesn't know him either. But he can admit now that he'd be willing to start a new relationship with his sister. Bury the hatchet and extend an olive branch. That is, if they can find her. If she's still alive.

There are tears in Allison's eyes as well as righteous anger.

"She _wouldn't_ ," she whispers mostly to herself. Her mind already replaying all her recent interactions with Vanya, trying to get a gage on her sister's mental health.

Vanya is fragile, yes, but she has strength underneath. She's not the wilting wallflower Allison always thought her being. She will take Vanya's anger over her sadness any day because at least that means she's fighting. At least with anger she has a tether to the world.

Five hates to admit it, even in the recesses of his mind, but Diego could be right. A horrible sinking feeling stirs in his gut at the thought of Vanya hurting herself, removing herself from the equation essentially. It tears at him, the pain in his chest sharp and frantic.

He takes another sip of his whiskey, briefly catching Klaus' eye who gives him an almost sorrowful look.

Luther sighs, "Allison."

"No, I don't accept that," Allison says aloud what Five's thinking.

He misses whatever else Diego and Luther say because he's too busy trying to stop the frantic beating of his heart and the sweat building on the back of his neck. The alcohol coating his throat along with worry and guilt.

Three heads have turned to Klaus expectantly.

He stands up, "No, I am _not_ doing that again."

"Klaus," Diego says, almost pleadingly.

"Yeah, no, I'm not about to call out to the spirits in an already pretty fucking haunted house to search for our sister who might not even be dead!"

"He's got a point," Five comments, his voice coming out as a croak.

Klaus claps his hands together, "Thank you!"

"Does Ben have anything he'd like to add to this conversation?" Luther asks Klaus, a hopeful pitch to his voice.

Klaus, and by extension Ben, shuffle a little under the attention.

The others watch as he animatedly stage-whispers to the air next to him where presumably Ben is.

Suddenly Klaus gives an exasperated groan and curls his hands into fists, emulating a blue light and just like that Ben becomes visible to everyone in the room.

Allison's eyes well with tears once more.

"Ben," she whispers as she moves towards him.

Five stares at Ben, chest tightening even more with guilt. Diego and Luther stand up and make their way to their deceased brother.

"Hi," he greets him, a little unsure but trying to smile.

Allison goes to hug him but Ben puts a hand up. "I don't think I'm corporeal."

She frowns and drops her arms.

Ben smiles sheepishly, "I wish this was under better circumstances, but it's nice to see you guys. Or at least you guys see me."

"It's really, really good to see you," Diego says, voice gone soft.

Luther still seems awestruck. His eyes are wide as they scan over every feature of Ben's face.

"Okay, kiddos, can we hurry this up? This conjuring stuff takes a lot out of a guy," Klaus complains, a petulant whine to his voice.

Ben rolls his eyes before fixing his gaze on Five's.

"I think Diego might have a point," he says and Five clenches his jaw.

Allison furiously wipes a tear from her eye and Ben takes a step forward to comfort her before remembering he can't physically touch her.

Ben begins gently, "Let me finish please. The thing about powers like Vanya's, like mine, is that sometimes they're too much. They're too big and terrifying. All of you," he pauses to give Klaus a glance when he opens his mouth to object, "Not you Klaus, have no idea what it's like to be truly scared of your powers. To live in fear every day that you might hurt or kill somebody. That just the fact of you existing might cause pain. It's hard to come to terms with and Vanya hasn't had a lot of time to do that. I can imagine she might not be thinking clearly right now and might do anything to stop the hurting."

A devastating look crosses Ben's face.

Allison takes another step towards him, carefully asking, "Is that how you felt, Ben?"

He drops his gaze to the floor which is confirmation enough.

Five downs the rest of his drink, hands clenching the glass, itching to act.

Luther frowns, "So what's our recourse then?"

"Yeah, where would little Vanya go to off herself?" Klaus speculates.

"You're a shit," Allison snaps at him and a look of shame crosses his face.

Ben lifts his head to glare at Klaus as well which turns into an intense staring contest. One that Klaus appears to lose by the way he turns away first with a small pout.

"When we were kids where would she go when she was upset?" Diego asks the room.

"Her bedroom?" Luther offers.

Ben shakes his head, "Somewhere quiet, like the library."

Klaus smirks, "Oh, yeah, I forgot about your little book dates."

To everyone's astonishment Ben blushes.

Five can't help the sudden infuriating jealousy and bitterness churning in his chest. Vanya and Ben had book dates? They must've started that after he left. He scolds himself for feeling jealous because now is not the fucking time.

Before they can continue brainstorming more places Vanya might've gone, Ben begins flickering. The blue outline of his non-corporeal form flashing. Klaus grimaces, clenching his fists to hold on a bit longer but he's feeling too drained from bringing Ben forward in the first place.

Ben smiles sadly, "It's okay, I'm still here. You just won't see me."

Just as quick as he appeared, he fades back into invisibility.

Klaus sighs, throwing his head on the back of the sofa, "That was exhausting."

"Miss Allison," a soft voice flows into the room and they all turn to see Pogo standing in the entryway, "There's a phone call for you."

Allison blinks a few times, "Thank you, Pogo." 

The rest of them watch her hurry from the room.

Five listens to Luther, Diego, and Klaus attempt to cobble together a plan while he pours himself another drink. He doesn't get to enjoy it though because Allison is rushing back into the room.

"That was the meteorologist from KVCB," she says urgently to Five, "He said there's an unprecedented stormfront heading into the city right now. It looks like winds are starting out at about 145 miles per hour but could be up to 170 soon."

Five's brow knit together, "Did he say anything about the exact location it's starting in?"

"Downtown."

He nods, his feet already moving of their volition out of the room.

"Wait, where are you going?" Diego demands, "Shouldn't we come up with a plan before just heading to an area that's about to become a category four hurricane?"

"You're definitely welcome to do that, Number Two," Five calls over his shoulder before spatial jumping from the mansion.

In haste, the remaining Hargreeves scramble to catch up with their brother.

-

One moment she is floating and then the next she is bristling with energy.

Someone had come into the bathroom and asked her if she was alright but the intrusion was such a shock to her senses that it only caused her to send that person sprawling backwards with invisible force.

Vanya feels like an animal running for cover from an oncoming storm even though she is in fact the storm. She scrambles for another place to hide. Pure feeling pouring out of her in waves, knocking over multiple people and cracking the building's walls.

She manages to stumble her way to the second floor at the top of the stairs. Faintly, she registers the sound of an alarm which only returns more ringing to her right ear. She releases a small scream, turning the sound into a force that shakes the entire building.

Falling to the floor and bracing her hands on the carpet, Vanya holds still, her body wracking with tremors, unrelenting panic flooding her mind and body.

Unaware that each shuddering breath she tries to take only causes more wind to uptake inside and outside the building.

-

When Five lands in the general vicinity of the downtown area, he's met with rough winds and dark clouds hanging above. He takes long strides against the current of people running away. The wind is like a siren song, beckoning him towards impending destruction.

There's a small shock to his system upon realizing the errant winds and energy in the air has lead him to the library. Something breaks inside of him over the knowledge of Vanya hiding out there, as it mirrors his own aching loneliness in the apocalypse.

 _Tethered_ , is the word that comes to his mind again, _they are tethered together._

Five runs inside the quaking building. It's not difficult to find Vanya. He takes two steps at a time up the stairs and his throat constricts with remorse and regret when he finally lays eyes on her once again. She's crouched on the floor, breathing heavy and body shaking with the same frightful force of their surroundings.

He's careful to slow his movements as he approaches her. He only gets a few feet closer before she's raising her head and pinning him with her silver gaze. He keeps his own eyes locked on hers, trying to convey no fear, only concern.

Anger colors Vanya's expression, but Five's stare remains unflinching.

He makes a mistake in opening his mouth to speak because all at once she cries out like an injured animal. The sound of that pained cry brings down several bookcases in their vicinity.

Five takes another step forward and Vanya's glare takes on a panicked edge.

The stress and fear has pushed her mind to the limit. Her nerves are an overinflated balloon, ready to burst at a single pinprick. Tension resonates along her insides as she takes in the sight of Five. She has an urge to throw herself into his arms in a desperate hope that his touch will absolve her of her guilt.

The White Violin snarls at that pathetic wish.

A small whimper escapes her mouth and she bites her bottom lip trying to curb any more from falling out.

"Vanya," he whispers.

She hides her face behind her hair like she used to when they were kids, any time she got embarrassed or when dad scolded her. It brings him some comfort to see shades of the girl he grew up with. It makes him want to tuck the strands behind her ear like he used to in his stunted efforts to cheer her up.

The sight of blood catches his eye. Rivulets of it running down her arm. Where did that come from? Did she do it to herself? The thought sends panic through him.

He bends down to her level, "Hey, Vanya."

Her breath hitches, "I-I di-"

She gives him a crushing look and he tentatively reaches out a hand.

But this interlude doesn't last because in the next moment she tilts her head, that newfound impeccable hearing of hers picking up the sounds of their family advancing on them.

Her face contorts into anger.

Five glances back at their siblings, each one wearing a look of caution. He wants to throw himself in front of Vanya to keep their prying eyes away from her, wants to shield her from this onslaught of regret.

She stands up and for a moment Five is lost in the pure fury of her gaze. Standing to his full height, now a whole foot above her, he sets his jaw and angles his body for a fight.

"You don't have to do this."

"Don't I?" she taunts with a hint of contempt in her voice.

She can't trust them. She can't trust _him_. She never could. Vanya should've learned that by now. She's on her own side. That should be enough.

Five's hands curl into fists, that blue light flaring to life, but before he can jump, she converts the sound of his powers into energy that knocks him and every person around them backwards. He lands halfway down the stairs.

A hand on his shoulder stops Five from racing back towards Vanya. He seethes, violence suddenly overriding all his senses.

"Get your fucking hand off me," he hisses through clenched teeth.

"Hold on," Luther implores, tightening his grasp on Five's shoulder, "Five, just-"

He's about to hurdle a punch at Luther when a sharp scream pierces his ears. "Five!"

In an instant, he jumps back beside Vanya.

She's brimming with energy, fists clenched at her sides. This is different than the Icarus. There she had looked immaculate. Five had never seen her so at home in herself before. She was poised and confident. Here and now she is waning, a pale shadow of herself.

"Come on!" she shouts, her voice reaching a panicked screech.

 _If they want a fight then she can bring it to them_ , The White Violin sneers inside her mind.

Vanya wants a fight, wants to test her powers, fine, then let it be against him. Let him be the one who takes her on. It'll be thrilling to test his powers against someone just as powerful as him. Someone he can cut his teeth on.

Isn't that the most tantalizing thing that Vanya is the one who comes close?

"You want me? I'm right here," he says calmly, spreading his arms wide.

Wind swirls around them. She glowers at him, her eyes pulsating misery.

It's a dangerous want, to fight Vanya, to measure their powers up against one another. He'd been caught off guard before but maybe he could take her this time.

The force of the wind she levels against him is disorienting. Vanya has him in her grasp, the white heat of her power clutching him just like back at the theater.

Look at him, proclaimed genius and he's already causing the apocalypse days ahead of its previous schedule. He attempts a spatial jump and only manages a small leap to the side. Vanya's silver gaze never leaves him. But it's the slight tremor in her hand and the shadow of grief in her eyes that bring him pause. The resentment and the anger is still present but it is clear to Five just how much the sadness and isolation wins out in Vanya's heart.

She's hurting.

And it's killing her.

"Vanya, come on!" he yells, "Stop this!"

"No!" she gives out another anguished cry, "Fight me! Hurt me! Come on, Five! Hurt me!" These no longer sound like battle cries but instead pitiful pleas from a tormented woman.

"Kill me!" she cries.

Will this be added to his long list of nightmares for years to come? Vanya begging him to kill her. Vanya screaming and sobbing, her powers unleashed far beyond her grasp.

No, no, he cannot, _will not_ accept this.

"No, Vanya!" he screams back.

The wind continues to whip around them, the force of it bringing down another bookcase and some desks. They are surrounded by mounting wreckage. Five hardly notices. He tries jumping again but only ends up straining against the pulsating power she possesses.

"Vanya, please," he tries, teeth gritted, "Stop this all now and I'll go with you wherever you want. Any time, any place. I'll do whatever you want. Just me and you, like we always said, remember?"

With every word he speaks, he can see her rage deteriorating. He's not lying to her either. He will go with her wherever she wants. He'll do anything she wants. Just as long as he stays by her side. It may not be the long held dream he'd had of the two of them running away together and starting a new life somewhere else that he'd had to bury in his years at the end of the world and with the Commission.

But he can resurrect it and reshape it now.

There are tears falling down her face in earnest now. Her resolve crumbling like a house of cards. Five knows that look. Her powers are becoming too much, tiring her out. A storm at sea cascading but he can be a port for her to cling to.

Five barely hears the frantic pleas coming from their siblings. It doesn't matter. Not anymore. Not when he has a chance to fix this.

Vanya wants him. It's no hardship to give himself over to her.

"Five," her voice cracks on his name.

He extends a hand towards her, "Just me and you."

Her eyes fade from silver back to brown and she takes his hand.

They blink out of that time and place.

When they land, it's inside a cottage on the other side of the world. Vanya shudders in his arms and for one moment, Five relishes in the fact that she's in his arms at all.

Once she's gained her bearings a little, she pushes away from him with a shove. She avoids his gaze as she wraps her thin arms around herself. The sight of blood on her arm raises his concern once again. He has to fight against the urge to pull her back to him, so he can check her over, inspect her inch by inch.

The air around them crackles with energy.

When Vanya finally speaks, her voice comes out small and frightened, "I wish I was dead."

Shame and guilt swirl around in his gut, anger following closely behind.

"No," Five's voice is low and furious, "No, you don't."

"I do!" she cries, eyes flashing silver as they begin to search about the room for something that she can harm herself with but before she can he grabs her arms, forcing her still. He takes in the way she flinches at his brute grasp and convinces himself that it's simply from the wounds on her arms and not him specifically.

"If you think I won't just turn back time and stop you from hurting yourself then we really better get reacquainted, sis," he snarls, all his patience disappeared.

At that, most of the fight leaves Vanya. She slumps down to the floor, sobs overtaking her.

Five doesn't know if his touch is welcomed but truthfully, he doesn't care. He falls to the floor beside her and folds her small frame into his arms. The force of her sobs making his own body shake.

"Kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me," she weeps, beginning to hit his chest with trembling fists.

Five holds her tighter. It is like trying to harness a tornado.

He feels tears start to burn his eyes as he listens to her painful cries. As she begs him to kill her. He says nothing back. If he opens his mouth now, he fears all that would come out is his own pained sob.

The cottage trembles around them until slowly it comes to a halt as her cries get a little quieter.

When she eventually tires herself out, her body growing heavy in his arms, Five allows himself an indulgence by brushing his lips against the crown of her head.

She's pliant in his arms, halfway to sleep, as he carries her to bed.

An unhappy noise leaves her when he tucks her in but she settles when he runs a gentle hand through her hair. When he sees she's finally asleep, he meticulously cleans the self-inflicted cuts on her palms and wrist.

They have so much to talk about but upon learning Vanya is more likely to destroy herself than the entire planet, Five is content to leave it alone for the night.

He settles in a chair by the bed, prepared to watch over her while he plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last section is where i started with this fic. the idea of Vanya lashing out with her powers and thinking she'd be better off dead, and Five forcing himself to fight her but ultimately giving himself over to her because more than anything Vanya wants love and to be understood. there's some more angst ahead but i promise there will be healing too.
> 
> thanks for reading! i will try to have the next chapter up next week
> 
> please leave a comment, i genuinely want to know how i'm doing with this story


	4. all the skeletons you hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for taking a bit to update but life is stressful and my mental health is kind of a mess. i also wanted this chapter to be amazing and i still wish it was better written but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ thank you to everyone who read/kudos/commented/subscribed! it really warms my heart 💖
> 
> this chapter is dedicated to [pacoca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacoca) for letting me ask her questions and for in general being a sweet human who i adore. read her fics, they're lovely!!
> 
> also i made a spotify playlist for this fic and it's [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4xhdQc3j9zGMSpFr21u276?si=14nii7r2Qmy4Vqyw2KACXA)
> 
> WARNING: there is talk of self-harm and suicide in this chapter so please take care of yourself if reading this might trigger anything. there's also some smut in at the end of this chapter so heads up

_Baby, you're a vampire  
You want blood and I promised  
I'm a bad liar  
With a savior complex  
All the skeletons you hide  
Show me yours, and I'll show you mine  
**Savior Complex - Phoebe Bridgers**_

  


Vanya wakes with a start.

She does her best to suck down a desperate breath. Slowly stop her jackhammering heart, regain her vision, her breath, her mind.

It's the soft sound of snoring that brings her back to reality. She turns to see Five sprawled out asleep in a chair beside the bed she's currently lying in. She stares at him for a long moment, taking in his disheveled appearance and his steady breaths. It soothes the ache inside her just a little bit.

He brought her somewhere safe.

He stayed.

Her legs nearly give out underneath her as she stands up.

Tentatively, Vanya reaches out a hand towards his sleeping face but at the last second pulls back. As much as she wants to brush his bangs back from his forehead and trace her fingers down his cheekbones, she knows she shouldn't. She desperately wants to refamiliarize herself with him but knows it's probably not welcome. She has no right him after what she did.

After all she's the reason for all the trauma Five went through.

Tears slip out from her eyes. Vanya practically feels like a siren for all the crying she's done the past few days.

Quietly slipping past Five's sleeping form, she starts to take in her surroundings. They're in a cottage. It's surprisingly spacious and minimally decorated. She wonders just exactly where they are. America still? Maybe Canada?

She walks down the hallway, poking her head in various rooms, until coming to the living room area. This is where they first landed when Five jumped them. She pads across the room to peer out the windows. They're surrounded by green. It almost takes Vanya's breath away. She's never seen so much green; from the rich grass to the lush trees.

Before she can think, Vanya is at the front door and stumbling outside. She takes in the orange and pink color of the sky as the sun rises. She can hear the sound of several birds chirping in the distance. Taking a deep breath, she lets the various noises wash over her.

Overwhelmed but trying to stifle that feeling down, she bites her bottom lip and sinks down to sit on the porch. Her mind wandering as she stares out at the small forest before her.

Vanya's absence from the bed has unknowingly set Five into a furious panic. Jolting awake barely twenty minutes after she had, he spatial jumps from room to room before he finally catching sight of Vanya outside on the porch.

The anger leaves him a little but the anxiety still coils in his gut.

He steps out onto the porch as quietly as he can.

"Where are we?" she asks, gaze still looking out to the greenery around them.

"New Zealand."

She nods, "It's so green."

He nods back although she still isn't looking at him. Her hands are shaking and there are dried tear stains on her cheeks.

"Come inside," he says, trying very hard not to demand.

She doesn't respond.

He sighs, "Please."

A breeze rustles through the trees. Five stills, preparing for a fight, but after a few tense seconds Vanya stands up and walks past him back inside. Her gaze cloudy and her mouth downturned.

She sits down at the small round table in the kitchen. Always a clear indicator of her feeling anxious, she fidgets with her fingers. Her thumb brushes the bandages over her palm and wrist. He aches to settle his own hands over hers, but instead he sits across from her.

"Vanya-" he starts.

"I'm sorry," she swiftly cuts him off, "I know that's not good enough. I feel like I've burned up everything good inside me and all that's left is an empty shell. I shouldn't still be here. You should've left me at the Icarus."

He shakes his head, "I would've never left you."

A frustrated look crosses her face. "You did before."

He frowns. The guilt returns, nearly incapacitating him this time. He takes a deep breath to stop it from bursting out in the form of sharp words.

Vanya looks down at her hands. She nervously pulls on the bandage on her wrist, digging her nails into it. She can feel Five's eyes on her and she stills at once. Her shame turning into a living, breathing thing panting against her neck.

"You've killed a lot of people, right?" she finds herself asking, forcing herself to look at him, "So, what's one more?"

A stricken look stretches across his face.

_What's one more? When the person in question is Vanya?_ It would surely be his undoing, that's fucking what.

He's not going to be persuaded to kill the person he loves most, even if she's the one doing the asking.

"No, that's unacceptable," he snaps.

"You-"

"No."

She deflates even more, if possible.

There are unshed tears caught in her eyelashes and her voice goes small, "Five, I'm tired."

He feels a muscle in his jaw twitch as he takes in the look of despair and exhaustion on her face. It brings a sort of desperation to his chest.

He leans forward, saying with urgency, "You think I never thought of killing myself during forty-five years of isolation? You think I didn't want to give up? The temptation was there nearly every day. But I endured and I adapted because there was nothing else I _could_ do. Surviving and getting home was all I had."

She drops her eyes back down to the table, so he softens his voice, "Vanya, I should've... I should've told you this sooner but your book kept me sane and gave me hope. It was the only thing I could hold on to. I know you're hurting. I know you want to lie down and never get up again. But hold on to me."

She looks like she's stopped listening, staring unfocused on the table, twisting her fingers into knots. For a brief moment, he fears he's lost her. That she's gone so far into herself that she won't reappear, even to cry or scream, that she's numb.

Finally, after several long moments, she sets her gaze on him, "Okay."

The panic in his chest abates. "Okay."

She's managed to tear the bandage off her wrist and has begun scratching at the angry red vertical marks there. Reopening a scab, blood catching her nails. He reaches out and gently pulls her bloodied fingers away. She stares at him, face pinched with shame.

"No," he says in his softest voice.

"It helps," she mumbles and his eyebrows raise, "The pain helps. When it gets too loud, when it gets overwhelming."

He nods, careful to keep his face neutral and his voice calm, despite how helpless and frustrated he feels. "We'll work on it," he promises, voice thick. She ducks her head and her fingers flex against his.

The urge to kiss her rises within him, just a small one on her forehead or the crown of her head. Something gentle and soft. Something to remind her that not everything has to be rough and harsh. But Five himself is all harsh lines, prickly demeanor. He doesn't know if just the touch of his lips on her skin will send her spiraling again.

But sitting at this table, practically holding hands with Vanya, reminds Five of when they were kids, when all he had to do to comfort her was hold her hand and just talk to her.

She doesn't reciprocate the gentle squeeze he gives her hand now though.

Reluctantly, he pulls away and stands up, telling her she should eat something before he begins making breakfast. It is eerily quiet in the kitchen. He keeps an eye on Vanya the entire time he cooks. She sits still, staring blankly into space.

They eat in silence.

When Five is satisfied by the amount of food Vanya has eaten, some eggs and a few bites of toast, he takes a long sip of his coffee before clearing his throat.

"Can you tell me about Har– Leonard? How he used Dad's journal?" he asks evenly.

Her eyes narrow. There's some anger that begins to set in her features, but mostly suspicion and regret.

"It's important, Vanya. I need to understand," he adds.

A flash of pain crosses her face. Her knuckles go white as she grips the edge of the chair she's sitting in before she lets out a shuddering breath.

It takes a few starts and stops but slowly, in a soft monotone, she tells him everything about the last week. About _Leonard_ coming to her for violin lessons, about stopping her pills, about auditioning for first chair and getting it, about discovering her powers and Leonard promising to help train her.

Five holds back his fury just barely as he listens. He wants to go back and kill Jenkins all over again. He wants to kill Reginald too. He hates the helplessness that's permeated all his senses.

"Well, this time I'm here," he declares.

Vanya's eyebrows knit together. "What?"

He looks impassioned, almost feverish, as he speaks, "I'll help you, train you, and not in the way Dad or Leonard did. I'm staying here with you. Until you learn to control it."

Five has already resigned himself to staying with Vanya for the rest of their days, to never parting from her unless she explicitly tells him to.

Even then, he would still find ways to keep tabs on her. She surely knows that as well.

As children, he picked her. She was it. He couldn't imagine himself ever liking someone as much as he liked Vanya. He relished in being the center of her attention. He can admit now how he had craved her smiles and little touches. In the apocalypse, in the loneliest moments he endured, he allowed himself to mourn the loss of their closeness, and actually cry knowing that he couldn't draw comfort from her presence or her touch. In desperate moments he would even envision a time where he never left, where they stayed together and properly fell in love.

Vanya stares at him, brown eyes wet and wide, "What if I never learn control?"

"You will."

She sighs, "You can't know that."

He almost smiles, "I know you."

It is a bit frightening how intensely he's looking at her. She feels like she could catch on fire just from his gaze.

"You should clean up and get settled. We'll start tomorrow," he tells her gently but still with an air of authority. It makes her shoulders tense a little but the careful consideration in his eyes makes her heart stutter.

Five stands outside the bathroom with the door ajar while she showers. Even though she meekly promises she won't hurt herself, he is obstinate in staying close by just in case.

Vanya spends the first day in this cottage in a foreign place sitting on the porch. She tries not to pay attention to the way Five orbits her like a satellite.

When the sun begins setting, she stares at the changing colors of the sky and pointedly ignores the sounds of Five's shifting feet. His next steps make the floorboards creak and she flinches, causing a swift wind to pick up. The wicker chair she's seated in squeaks and shakes. She squeezes her eyes shut tight, allowing every sound in the vicinity to fill her up then refocuses on the one sound that is even and steady – Five's heartbeat.

He's standing in front of her when she reopens her eyes. His face contorted into a conflicted expression. Concerned and cautious. The White Violin almost rises to the surface wanting to lash out but Vanya swallows it down with a bite to her bottom lip.

It is odd to see Five finally as an adult. His features more grown in and his body filled out. There's a faint dusting of stubble along his jaw. She tilts her head to the side to stare up at him.

"You're older," she says quietly, her doe-like eyes raking over his face intently.

He swallows then nods, "And how do I measure up?"

For a moment, she says nothing, does nothing, just continues to assess him with her eyes. Then slowly, she raises her hand and rests it on his cheek. Five doesn't move, he stills his body, and commends his heart for betraying him by picking up its pace at her gentle touch. Vanya's thumb begins to stroke the arch of his cheekbone.

"You look like you," she whispers.

His heart does a pathetic flip at the reverence in her voice.

Slowly, hesitantly, she drops her hand from his face and instantly he misses her touch. She stands up and carefully sidesteps him so they don't brush against each other on her way back into the cottage, and like a besotted puppy he follows her.

The rest of the evening passes by mostly in silence. Despite Five's meager attempts to draw Vanya into conversation, she is uninterested.

Eventually, she wanders back to the bedroom she woke up in. Without bothering to turn a light on, she simply crawls into the bed and pulls the blankets over her body. She curls into a ball, bringing her knees up to her chest.

The White Violin scorns her for giving in so easily but Vanya lacks the strength to argue right now.

She ignores Five's watchful stare from the doorway and waits for sleep to claim her. It comes in restless fits. She wakes herself up several times throughout the night, panicked and angry, overwhelmed with grief.

But it's Five's soft murmurs that alleviate the panic and ease her back into dreamless sleep.

-

The two of them fall into a routine. They wake up every morning and train for a few hours. It's not as grueling as their father's training had been but it is still intense. They take breaks around noon, eat in silence, and then return to training until the sun sets. Rinse, repeat.

It seems they are at a standstill. Reunited best friends but estranged more than ever, both consumed with guilt and resentment.

Five wishes she would talk to him, wishes they could confide in each other the way they always had as children. He likes to believe he's a better listener now and he liked to show her.

When they do speak, they talk around the subject of the apocalypse.

Vanya sleeps like the dead half the time, the other half she tosses and turns, wakes herself up with screams, the noise causing her bed to shake violently.

Five has gotten better with her panic attacks. He keeps his heartbeat even until she can hone in on the sound, despite the way it causes his chest to go tight watching her struggle. Sometimes his touch is welcomed and he can soothe her by rubbing her back or holding her hands until they stop trembling.

He wishes he could tell her that even the fact that his heartbeat is able to calm her down fills him with warmth. That he can provide something for her, that he can take care of her in this one small way. But the words never make it past his throat.

His own sleep schedule is erratic at best and nonexistent at worst.

Usually when Vanya sleeps, Five bides his time by checking in on her, pacing, and working through equations. He'll get twenty minutes or thirty minutes here and there. He fears if he rests for too long, he'll wake to an empty cottage, to Vanya vanished.

So he's managing with his measly power naps.

Five is learning and unlearning at the same time all the ways you can train someone with immense and overwhelming powers. Between Reginald's particular torturous methods and the Commission's unusual techniques, he'd been marginally prepared, but he realizes quickly how unhelpful their ways truly were. Vanya's abilities seem almost limitless at first. It is daunting sometimes, especially knowing she can level a field with the sway of her hand.

Pride thrums through him every day though, at the sight of her getting out of bed, at every stride she makes in their training sessions. His words of encouragement wash over her with unease and suspicion. There is a shadow of grief and sadness etched into her face with permanence, it seems.

The day Vanya manages with her powers to hold some rocks and aim them at a specific target, there's the slightest upward curvature of her lips. 

His congratulations is even met with a deadpan, "Thanks, Master Yoda."

It startles him for a moment but then he lets loose a laugh. The first genuine one in a very long time.

He grins at her, "A Jedi we will make of you yet."

That earns him an eye roll, but the faint smile stays on Vanya's lips for a little bit. It makes Five's chest seize with further affection and devotion.

Weeks pass and Vanya's concentration and control only grows more and more. 

They do hit some occasional hiccups. Five tries not to lash out, not scold her with menacing words, but sometimes he can't stop a scowl from forming on his face. Vanya always responses to these setbacks with stony silence and listless eyes. He knows she perceives them as failures and not as the learning curves they are.

Sometimes the slightest sounds cause her powers to flare up. A few windows have cracked and some plates have been broken. Five does worry that the foundation of their cottage may not hold on for too much longer.

They've been having a particularly rough day. Vanya is struggling with focus and getting frustrated every few minutes. Five can taste blood in his mouth from biting his tongue so he won't snap at her.

It comes to a head when after he asks her a little too harshly to change the direction of the actual wind. She glances at him with a sharp glare, defiance building in her gaze.

With a tilt of her head, she shuts her eyes and raises a hand, the wind beginning to pick up spectacularly.

She'll show him. She'll show them all.

The White Violin gains fleeting momentum at this act.

In her effort to prove herself Vanya gets carried away, loses herself to the overwhelming surge of energy that is her powers.

As she uproots a tree from the forest floor, she crashes. Weak, disoriented, heavy as dead weight and yet strangely weightless. Five manages to jump over to her in time and they barely miss the tree crushing them both. He carries her back inside.

When Vanya reawakens, she's still in Five's arms. They are a solid shield surrounding her and for a moment she relishes in the comfort it brings. Her first instinct is to burrow deeper into his chest. She presses her ear against him, listening to the way his heart thunders against his ribcage.

She stares up at him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Five?" she asks, horror flooding her veins.

He doesn't reply. The muscles in his jaw clenching and his heartbeat stuttering are the only indicators that he's heard her speak at all. He sets her down on the sofa before sitting down on the coffee table in front of her.

"Don't do that again," he says through gritted teeth.

Tears born out of anger and hurt fill her eyes. "What?"

His eyes narrow, "You know what. Throwing a tantrum for no good reason."

Indignation flares to life inside her. Her eyes flash silver as she counters, "I wasn't throwing a tantrum, Five."

_How dare he_ , The White Violin riots along with her.

The cabinets in the kitchen begin rattling. Five cuts a glance over there and frowns.

"Vanya," he starts.

She's breathing heavy, white knuckling the sofa cushions. "I'm doing my goddamn best, okay?"

Peripherally, she is aware of dishes falling out of the cabinets, smashing all over the floor.

Five's hand reaches out to rest over one of hers, his thumb grazing her knuckles. It's a silent invitation for her to settle, to relax.

"I know that," he tells her. _I'm proud of you_ and _I love you_ sit behind his tongue painfully and mockingly.

Five has always loved Vanya deeply. He doesn't know when exactly the love shifted from some enforced familial bond into a romantic and desperate thing. He only knows he's been in love with her so long that he doesn't know how _not_ to be.

Slowly, Vanya loosens her grip enough that his fingers can slide along hers until they are actually holding hands. It begins to bleed the tension out of her. She takes a deep breath and squeezes her eyes shut. Focusing in on Five's heartbeat that has now slowed back down to a normal, steady rate.

The minutes tick by until gradually the cabinets in the kitchen stop clattering and the tense air has fled from the room.

Her eyes are back to brown when she reopens them. They lock onto Five's green ones.

"I need to be alone," she says, ripping her hand away from his and standing up on shaky legs.

"Van-"

"Stop. I need to be alone _right now_."

He knows she knows that he could stop her in an instant but she's aware that he won't. She's trusting him to trust her.

She runs outside and stares out at the beautiful lush green surroundings. She lets out a frustrated scream into the fresh, open air as she digs her nails into her arms, reopening old wounds.

-

Vanya ends up spending the next few days unable and unwilling to leave her bed. She lies under the covers despondent and unresponsive. Her panic attacks have ceased but depression has taken its place.

Five is at somewhat of a loss. He hovers by her bedroom door and paces the entire floorplan of the cottage. Vanya's sadness has always set him on edge, even when they were children. He can handle her anger and her exasperation, but the empty look in her face haunts him.

It's been nearly a week since she's gotten out of bed for anything other than using the bathroom. He pretends to scribble in a notebook as he sits in a chair by her bed like he did the first night he brought her here. He becomes so entranced watching the fall and rise of her chest that he doesn't hear her make a distressed noise as she slowly wakes up.

It's only when Vanya turns her face towards him, a strand of hair sticking to her lips and pillow creases on her face, that he startles.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she frowns in his direction.

"Five?" her voice soft as she draws a hand out towards him, clutching his arm.

He clears his throat, "Sorry. I was just checking on you."

He moves to stand up but Vanya's grasp on him only tightens. "When was the last time you slept?" she asks.

The longer he takes to respond the more concerned she looks.

He's thrown when she pulls back the blankets and gives him an expectant look.

She tugs his arm, "Come on." He opens his mouth to argue but she cuts him off, "I sleep better when I know you're near, so this is for both of us."

Their gazes stayed on locked on each other's until eventually he sighs and slides in beside her. It's awkward as they shuffle alongside each other, trying to get comfortable. Vanya moves over to give him more room but it's still a tight fit. She lies on her side facing him and he lies on his back staring up at the ceiling.

There's uncertainty and longing pouring from his body as he remembers all the times that he and Vanya shared a bed as kids. Every time she had a nightmare, she'd tiptoe into his room and bed, then snuggle up to him. He always welcomed it because it was Vanya, and the thought of her being afraid and alone was too painful for him to bear. When he had been suffering in the future, he had wondered just who comforted her during her nightly torments. He'd wanted more than anything to tear through time and space as he realized no one in that hellhole would care for her the way he always had.

Five feels his eyes begin to flutter just as a soft hand finds his and interlaces their fingers together. He turns to the left and his breath almost catches at the worried look on Vanya's face.

"I'm sorry I've been difficult," she whispers.

He groans, grimacing, "You haven't been. Not really."

Her mouth forms a thin line, obviously disagreeing with him. He gives her hand a gentle squeeze and slowly she returns it.

Laying there together in comfortable silence, drowsiness begins to settle over them both. Vanya shifts slightly, her thumb briefly brushing Five's wrist but she pauses when she finds raised skin there like a scar. She continues to rub her thumb over his wrist until her sleep-addled mind comes to understanding.

The sound of her crying brings Five back from his descendent into sleep. He turns to her fully and pulls her close, murmuring soothing nonsense to her. She refuses to let go of his wrist, clutching it to her chest while she hides her face against his shoulder.

It takes a few stops and starts but she's finally able to gather herself. She lifts her head from the crutch of his shoulder and gives him an imploring look. Five stares down at her in bewilderment.

"What is this?" she asks, gesturing to the scar.

Realization dawns on him at once.

He sighs, "A poorly thought out plan."

"When?"

He thinks for a moment, unwanted memories floating back to the surface, the taste of ash filling his mouth.

"I must've been 19 or 20. I cut my hand on a piece of glass and I just couldn't stop staring at the blood pouring out. It seemed so easy to just end it right there so I tried," he pauses and almost laughs a little, "I panicked immediately. I didn't cut very deeply though and was able to stop the bleeding pretty quickly."

Her heart clenches, the back of her throat narrowing.

Decidedly, he has omitted the fact that he was extraordinarily drunk when he tried to kill himself.

Five brings his other hand up to brush some hair away from her face. "It was the thought of you, and the others, that kept me from finishing the job."

Vanya blinks back tears.

"We match now," he adds softly.

She gives a watery laugh.

It unfurls the anxiety from his chest. He takes her own wrist and brings it to his lips so he can press a delicate kiss to the jagged scar.

She presses her face under his chin, nuzzling, and it sends a shiver down his spine. He wraps his arms around her protectively, molding their bodies together, intertwining their legs. His chest going unbearably tight at the sudden emotion that it stirs. Soft lips brush along his throat and the featherlight touch sears him like a brand.

With Vanya in his arms, Five has his first full night's rest in decades.

-

Vanya's mood appears to slowly get better but she's still a little hesitant to jump right back into training. It leads Five to consider some other options.

As soon as Five lands in Vanya's apartment he is met with a wide-eyed and upset Allison. He should've known she'd be waiting there.

"Where did you take her? Where is she?" she demands, stepping right into his face.

He wants to bite out an angry retort but he takes in her worried appearance and reassesses. Her wet eyes and rumpled clothes, so unlike her usual perfectly stylish outfits.

"She's safe," he says.

Allison frowns. It hits Five then that she is actually suspicious of him. That she might actually think him capable of hurting Vanya.

He angles his body towards hers in a defensive manner. "What exactly did you think I was going to do when we found her?" he posits in a low voice.

She gives him a calculating look. "I don't know, Five. You've always been spectacularly good at excluding us and doing whatever you deem is best. You're kinda like Dad in that way."

He scoffs, "Yeah, but I'm unlike Dad and Luther in the way that they lock up family members."

Allison's resolve begins to crumble a little. Her breath hitching uncomfortably.

" _I_ never wanted to hurt Vanya at the concert," he reminds her through gritted teeth.

Five doesn't even think he could truly hurt Vanya if it came down to it.

Allison crosses and uncrosses her arms a few times. He can tell she's lacking trust in him and he tries not to let it bother him too deeply.

Five regards her. The way her chin is tilted up in challenge and her arms are crossed over her chest unimpressed. She's both changed and unchanged since childhood. He can see how she holds herself like a mother protecting her young, like she needs to protect Vanya from _him_. The idea is absurd.

He furrows his brow, knowing he could devastate Allison with a few choice words, but then deciding against it.

"I'm training her, Allison," he informs her, "She's… doing better."

Softness seeps into her face. "Is she really?"

"It changes day to day, but she's still here. I'm not giving up on her."

They stare at each other. He knows she has more questions, that she wants to know every detail of their training, but she's refraining from interrogating him.

Allison eventually nods. "Good."

Five nods back. He then gets on with his original intention for teleporting to Vanya's place. Carefully picking up her violin, he avoids Allison's questioning gaze.

"She's going to have to face it at some point. I'm just being prepared," he explains with thinly veiled condescension.

Allison smiles sadly, "I can't even think of Vanya without her violin."

Violin and Vanya were synonymous in the mansion growing up. Five can't think of Vanya without it either.

He's preparing to teleport away again when suddenly Allison wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. He stands stock still, unsure how to react, until just as suddenly she steps back. Still she manages to thrust a folded piece of paper into his hands.

"I wrote a letter for Vanya," she explains, "She doesn't have to read it right away, but I want her to have it."

Five nods and tucks the letter in his jacket pocket.

In this small pocket of time he's sharing with his sister, he finds himself saying without preamble, "You should go back to L.A., to Claire."

Allison is taken aback, "What?"

"Go back to L.A. and be with your daughter, Allison. Things are handled here for now. I can always reach out if you're needed," he tells her.

She starts to shake her head, flustered, but Five continues on, "Bring Luther with you."

"Five," she says, exasperation slipping into her tone.

He shrugs, "It's just something to consider."

They each give the other a contemplative look.

His goodbye is short and he doesn't even grimace at the sentimental look Allison gives him before teleporting away.

When Five returns to the cottage on the other side of the world, Vanya is eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen table and staring off into empty space.

She turns to him, a hello on her lips, until she notices her violin case in his hand. A look of revulsion crosses her face.

Instantly, she stands up and walks past him, heading to her bedroom. The door slamming shut behind her.

Letting out a frustrated groan, he stalks after her. "Vanya!"

He knocks on her door but receives no response. He could just teleport inside but they've steadily been building back their trust and Five does not want to send it crashing all down. They've struck a delicate balance.

Still he cannot stop his irritation from bursting out of him. "Oh, so you're giving me the silent treatment? You know, I lived alone in a barren wasteland for forty-five years, I think it's safe to say I'll beat you at this game."

-

Vanya appears to be winning this stalemate.

She pays him no mind. Five reckons it comes from growing up a shadow in her own home that she is so good at ignoring him. Every time Five enters a room or offers an opinion, she sends him an icy glare.

Five doesn't know much longer he can stand this. Her cold shoulder is burning up all his limited patience. It's not as if he brought her violin here demanding she play it right away. He just thought it might be good for her to eventually learn to control the way her abilities interact with her instrument. The power to convert sound into energy is an incredible one and adding that alongside her own natural musical skills is magnificent.

But Five has gradually come to realize Vanya must not see it that way.

The potential for greatness has always been there for her. He saw it in her as young as ten years old when she outwitted both him and Ben during games of chess. He saw it again when she mastered her first piece on violin. He sees it in her every day.

It's been nearly a week of silence on her end when he tentatively approaches her as she attempts to meditate in the evening.

Shadows lengthen across the floor as the sun creeps towards the horizon, Five leans against the doorframe and watches Vanya take deep breaths in and out. When she eventually opens her eyes, she gives him an exasperated look.

"I won't make you do anything you don't want to do," he blurts.

She raises an eyebrow, clearly amused that he thinks he could make her do anything she didn't want to do.

"If you never play your violin again, I understand. I respect that. But I hope you know that it doesn't have to be like that."

For a moment, Vanya doesn't react, until gradually she smiles sadly like that settles some argument she'd been having in her head. She stands up and walks towards him.

Her mouth twists into a frown, "That's a nice thought, Five, but it's not safe. _I'm_ not safe."

He shakes his head, "Don't be ridiculous. None of us are safe. We're all dangerous. Dad tried to mold that danger into something he could control, and when he couldn't control you, he sedated you until you were completely numb. You've made great progress-"

She scoffs, "Fi-"

"You have! Do you know how long it took Luther to gain control of his strength? Don't you remember all the broken doorknobs and doors ripped off the hinges? How many times did Diego miss a target and hit one of us? It takes _time_ , Vanya, and we have plenty of it now. I told you I'm not giving up on you. Ever."

A tear rolls down her cheek and he reaches out to swipe it away. She shivers under his touch.

_Pathetic_ , The White Violin hisses.

Instantly, Vanya winces and steps back from him.

"You're one of us, Vanya."

"Am I? In my head I..." she starts then stops herself.

Five's brow furrows, "In your head what?"

She tries to fall back into that meditative mindset of calmness and stillness, but all her thoughts are running frantic. Every breath she exhales is full of guilt for existing. For hurting Allison. For finally feeling the depth of all her emotions and ending the world with the force of her rage. For putting Five through unimaginable hell.

"I don't…" she says quietly. She cannot find the words to explain her feelings, to describe the despicable whispers that stir within her mind. They've been with her since the night of the concert.

All the happiness and relief Vanya's felt since he first reappeared, that she let be eclipsed by longing and resentment, claws at her chest begging to be set free. As she looks at Five now, _her_ Five, she decides she won't let the darkness inside her take this from her again.

"Vanya," his voice cuts through the muck of her mind, "Explain."

"I don't know how, Five."

"Try."

She gives him a pleading look, but all she can focus on is the desperation in his eyes and stubborn jut of his jaw.

"When I let out all that energy, all that power, I don't feel like myself some of the time. It feels like something dark takes over… something bad that's been buried inside me coming out," she says quietly, "I'm afraid that if I touch that instrument again I'll hurt someone. I'll hurt you and I'll blow up the world. Because as much as my violin makes me happy it's not worth the threat of possibly ending the world."

Her face twisting with shame and guilt as she hugs her arms around herself.

"Maybe Dad was right. I'm bad," she continues, voice even smaller, "It's no use to train me because I'll always be a bomb."

Five's already shaking his head before she even finishes that sentence. "Dad was wrong. He was wrong about many things but he was especially wrong about you."

"I just don't understand how you see so many good things in me. Still, after everything."

He thinks he could give her a million different answers, a million platitudes, but only one thing comes to mind. "I love you," he says simply.

She dissolves into tears.

Before she can slink away or fall to her knees, he tears into space to huddle beside her. He takes her into his arms, holds her against the onslaught of confusion and self-flagellation. Weakly, she hits his chest a few times before gripping his shirt in her fist.

She mumbles more punishing things about herself but Five will not entertain them. He presses a tiny kiss to the soft skin behind her ear.

Vanya shivers at the feeling of Five's lips on her skin. She rests her palms against his chest and tips her head back so she can look up at him. There's an attentive look to his face now, intensity burning in his eyes. She feels like her body moves of its own accord as she tilts her face up to his, silently seeking permission. The initial brush of their lips hardly even feels like kissing at all, but then Five's hand finds Vanya's jaw, securing the angle and she gasps beneath his lips. The ever-present spark between them ignites.

The kiss soon becomes a hard, fast press that leaves her off kilter. For a moment, she is too stunned to move. But when he begins to pull away, she's quick, leaning forward and grabbing him to pull him back to her and now there's fingers in her hair and heat rushing between them; from the taste of him and the feel of his hands on her skin. She pushes her tongue in, tilting her head and he shifts so she's held more securely in his arms. He breaks away and there's a wild, ragged look to him.

Vanya shivers at the sight, something unfurling inside her. She breathes, her heart picking up pace in her chest.

They return to kissing, mouths and hands drawn to each other like magnets, tripping over their feet as Five guides them to her bedroom. After one too many missteps, he groans and reluctantly releases her mouth to hold her steady as he spatial jumps them right to her bed. Vanya yelps and clings to him, but it doesn't faze him. He grabs her neck hard and tilts her face back up towards his. While his grip might be harsh, his kiss isn't. It is soft and deep, his tongue gliding along hers with long held fervor.

"Five," she pants against his mouth when she can break away for some air.

He redirects his efforts to her throat. He scrapes his teeth over the delicate patches of skin. She moans, tossing her head back and exposing her throat even more.

"Stay," she whimpers, a hand clutching the back of his neck, "Stay close."

He groans at the breathlessness of her voice.

When Vanya starts squirming beneath him in earnest, he bites down on her collarbone a little rougher before lifting his head. She's trying to remove her clothes. He feels his heart swell at the little pout she's wearing, so he leans forward to peck her lips once again.

"I need you closer," she whispers, lips brushing his jaw.

"I'm right here," he promises, his voice a little rough.

Tears glitter in her eyes, "I need to feel something. You're the only one..."

He seals his mouth over hers in a possessive kiss. A whine escapes her, sending a thrill right through him.

Five makes quick work of removing their clothes, practically preening at the appreciative look Vanya gives him when she sees him bare. He only hopes his own face shows how beautiful he finds her as well. She's the loveliest thing he's ever seen, the closest thing to divinity he's ever touched.

In a quiet voice he tells her he needs to get a condom, already formulating the equation he needs to jump to the nearest shop, but she stops him by saying she has an IUD. The admission letting him know he doesn't need to leave at all. A blush blooms across her face and chest.

Five is hard and hot and heavy against her and her skin is prickled with goosebumps.

He moves down, and she feels the ragged, desperate trail of his kisses down her neck and across her chest. His kisses are hot, and relentless with just a hint of pain that keeps her writhing underneath him, desperate in a way she's never been for anyone before.

His fingers trail down even lower, rubbing and teasing at her slick folds. His thumb brushes her clit, causing a little yelp to fall from her mouth. As he sucks a pink nipple into his mouth, he sinks two fingers into her soft heat. Vanya's hand reaches out to grip the back of his head, her nails digging into his scalp.

Vanya fights her climax as long as she can, scared of the noises she'll make, the total abandon she knows she'll feel, the chaos her powers might rain down on them both. One of his fingers brushes the most sensitive spot inside her and she cries from the overstimulation. Her belly beginning to go tight as her orgasm races ever closer.

The lamp on the dresser flickers twice before bursting completely. They both raise their heads to stare at the shards of the lightbulb scattered across the floor, the smoke rising from the overblown fuse. Vanya's face goes from open sweetness to shuttered darkness. Five won't have that.

Bracketing his body over hers, he cages her in with careful attentiveness.

"Oh, God," she despairs, trying to wriggle away from him.

"Hey, stop," he orders gently, using his weight to keep her still, "It's alright. Focus on me. Focus on my heartbeat."

"Five," she cries with a panicked edge.

He shushes her, holding her face in between his hands.

After a few tense minutes, with Vanya centering all her attention on Five's heartbeat, she lets out a deep breath. The storm has passed. He grins before recapturing her mouth. They melt back into each other.

"Please," she whimpers.

She's never before felt this wish to be entered so deeply; to be laid bare, exposed. She's never felt such ferocity and tenderness.

He bites her bottom lip, "Please what?"

"I need you inside me, Five, please."

A dark chuckle vibrates against her jaw before he nips it.

Lining himself up at her entrance, Five takes a hold of her hand and interlocks their fingers. When he finally slides in, her mouth falls open as her cunt throbs around him. His other hand as he grasps her hip shakes and there is a muscle leaping in his jaw. It's taking everything he has not to plunge inside her, but still he goes slowly, taking care of her.

The only thing that holds any significance is Vanya, who is tugging and clawing at Five, trying to draw him in closer. Blind to anything but what she needs, he sinks in further, biting his own lip in an attempt to hold back a sob at the sweetness of it all, and the desperate, burning need to let himself bleed into Vanya, becoming one with her.

Soon neither can hold the other back from running rampant in their movements. Vanya pushes against him, trying to get more, faster. Five lets the possessiveness unfurl in his chest as he begins pounding her into the mattress.

Her hand slides up on his chest until her thumb brushes over his throat. His skin prickles under the rough brush of her violin callouses, under the burning heat of her touch. He trails a hand down until he finds the swollen nub of her clit and presses. Vanya screams, her orgasm finally arriving in a burst of white heat.

Five buries himself in deeper, his back bowed over her. She makes these tiny mewls, overstimulated and oversensitive, at his every thrust until his own orgasm hits. He collapses on top of her, his entire body blanketing hers, and she hugs him closer. Overwhelmed and desperate for the safety that he provides.

Time passes slowly as they both try to catch their breath. Carefully, Five heaves himself up so he can look at Vanya, check her over. He finds her heavy-lidded and loose-limbed, relaxed in a way he's ever seen before. He can't resist reaching out with a gentle fingertip, slowly tracing the planes of her face.

A smile spreads across her face and his heart does a stupid flip at the sight.

"Don't leave," she mumbles, her eyes flashing open a little.

"I won't."

"I'd hunt you down if you did."

He grins, feral and possessive and proud.

They rearrange themselves into a more comfortable position for sleeping. Vanya nuzzling into his chest, his arms wrapping around her possessively, his head atop hers, her bare skin hot and flushed against his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really debated adding the smut to this chapter but then decided we all deserved it. there's one more section i have left to wrap this story up as best i can
> 
> thank you for reading! finger crossed i'll the have last chapter up within the next 10 days
> 
> please comment i'm deeply insecure


	5. hold on to your heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alas, it's here! the final chapter! i wasn't sure if i was gonna make it. i sorta look at this a little epilogue. i've really enjoyed writing this and it was definitely cathartic for me at certain points. i hope others out there enjoyed it too 😊
> 
> thank you to everyone in the fiveya discord, especially everyone who i did sprints with, because it really helped me complete this story
> 
> this chapter still deals with heavy themes and references self-harm. there is also some smut in here. check over the tags again to make sure you're comfortable reading.

_The monument of a memory  
You tear it down in your head  
Don't make the mountain your enemy  
Get out, get up there instead  
You saw the stars out in front of you  
Too tempting not to touch  
But even though it shocked you  
Something's electric in your blood_  
**Various Storms & Saints - Florence + the Machine**

  
It is still night when Vanya first gradually rouses from sleep. She's bathed in warmth, the only sound that rings in her ear is Five's pulse as it beats steadily. Her first instinct is to cuddle closer so she does, burrowing her face at the hollow of his throat and tangling her legs with his. She has a desire to become so intertwined with Five that neither of them knows where one stops and the other begins.

His right hand grazes hers as he shifts in his sleep so she grabs hold of it. Rubbing her thumb along the self-inflicted scar on his wrist, she does her best to stamp down the thundering of her heart. Overwhelming sadness sweeps through her.

Five, broken and starving in the apocalypse, deciding to harm himself, to kill himself, all because of her and the destruction her powers can bring. She knows he didn't cut deep enough and was able to staunch the bleeding. She also knows this timeline is different. The apocalypse has not happened. Except the burden of that other lifetime chokes her nearly every day. The burden of killing her family and wiping out all human existence is so heavy she doesn't understand how she has not crumbled from the weight of it.

She suppresses a whimper, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Inhales and exhales several times until her mind is a little less chaotic and she slowly falls back asleep.

The first few rays of sunlight pour in through the window startling Vanya awake. Disoriented, she blinks a few times. In her sleep she had wandered a little away from Five but he still surrounds her, spooning her from behind.

Gently, so not to disturb him, she disentangles herself from his arms. It's a bit difficult because he keeps a firm grip on her, protective and possessive. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she takes in his sleeping face. She brushes his bangs away from his forehead and rests her hand against his sleep warm cheek for a moment.

 _You don't deserve this. You don't deserve him_ , The White Violin whispers in her mind.

Vanya pulls her hand away from Five's face instantly. It's like a switch has been flipped. She stands up, picks some clothes from the floor to wear and walks out into the hall.

For a long moment, she just stands in the kitchen, bare feet on the cool tile floor keeping her tied to the present. She decides to put on a pot of coffee, maybe subconsciously trying to summon Five awake with it. She drinks three cups before sitting down at the table.

For an indeterminate amount of time, she stares off into empty space. Mind consumed elsewhere, she doesn't even startle when Five finally saunters in.

Vanya can't help the small smile from forming on her lips when she notices he's only half-dressed as well.

"Hey," he says, voice rough from sleep.

Vanya listens to his heart thumping in his chest, and despite its quickening pace, it soothes her.

"I made coffee," she mumbles, hands gripping her half-empty cup tight.

Five nods and gets himself a cup.

The silence that surrounds them is comfortable. Five has always felt like an extension of herself. Being with him is just like being alone, as in he brings her the same kind of peace and ease. She had missed him so terribly when he left. Not even her violin could bring her the much needed comfort she craved just from his presence. Even as she had gotten better at the instrument, she still longed for her only source of support.

Vanya barely hides her whimper right now. Five looks over to her, face lined with worry.

He sits down next to her, taking her hand in his. She allows it for a moment until she glimpses his tattoo and pulls her hand out of his grasp.

Five sighs, "Hey, talk to me please."

Anxiously, she nibbles on her bottom lip and avoids his gaze.

Sighing again, he gives her a long considering look. "Was I terribly disappointing last night? I mean, it's been some time for me and I am technically middle-aged," he says casually.

Vanya nearly chokes on air, blush creeping up her neck and cheeks. Bewildered, she looks to Five, who is silently laughing.

"W-what? You're, I-" she sputters.

His laugh settles into a smirk.

The metallic taste of blood fills her mouth from biting her lip too harshly. She angles her head away from him, her hair curtaining the distress on her face.

"Do you think you could maybe expand on what you told me last night?" he tries, voice soft and eyes even softer.

She utters a weak sigh, staring down at her hands in her lap as if she can see the blood on her hands from the millions of lives that she took.

Five's own hands curl into fists at his sides out of her sight. That frustrating helpless feeling overtaking his senses for one moment before it simmers back down to a more bearable level.

Vanya scratches at her wrist, at the faded red marks etched into her pale skin.

With her face carefully pointed straight ahead, she begins to speak, voice low but steady, "Sometimes I think I'm happy here. With you. But then as soon as I realize that I feel guilty."

Five nods in understanding, "I feel guilty too."

She shoots him an incensed look.

"I do," he presses, unafraid of her irritation. "I'm a killer."

She raises her chin defiantly, "I am too."

A rueful smile graces his lips. "But the difference between us, dear, is that sometimes I enjoyed it. I was good at it, could've made a career out of it. That's not you, Vanya."

"How would _you_ know? You were gone for seventeen years."

It hurts to hear her say it, just like every time he remembers that fact, but she's right. So Five simply nods, acquiescing to her.

"I enjoyed killing Leonard," she admits in a low, shaky voice.

He hums, "I never told you how proud of you I was for that."

She huffs out a horrified laugh, "Five."

"I was. I am," he assures her seriously, "I took care of him this time."

Vanya's eyes suddenly fill with tears. She tries to blink them away but they just keep coming. This time she reaches out for his hand, grasping it tight and lacing their fingers together. He gives it a squeeze, pouring all his unrelenting love and support into the small gesture.

"Five, I don't… I don't think I know how to be anymore. I don't know how to live," she whispers, breath hitching uncomfortably.

He knows that feeling intimately and wishes desperately she didn't feel it too. Vanya has always been a bright light to him, a source of comfort and normalcy among the chaotic trauma of their childhood. Seeing her so shaken and broken down sears his heart.

Gently, Five raises his other hand to her chin, tilting her head towards him.

"I can't exist anywhere anymore," he says with an almost shrug.

Vanya's face twists with remorse. "And neither can I?" she implores but Five doesn't react, doesn't respond, "But you'll exist with me." There's an unspoken _why_ hanging in the air between them. Vanya wants to scream or cry out. Why Five would tether himself to a ticking time bomb? Is it guilt? Is it just a way to ensure she doesn't go off the deep end again? She used to know Five so well, her sole confidante, but now she fears they've strayed too far from each other.

He begins to stroke her damp cheek with his thumb and she shivers minutely under his touch. "We'll exist together. As we always should've."

Vanya opens her mouth to speak, to argue, but Five cuts her off, "I love you."

He keeps saying that and she doesn't understand why or how. Doesn't he know there's nothing to love anymore? The love has been carved out of her. She is hollow now; empty and aching. She is a jagged piece of glass; once fragile, now something you cut yourself on.

There is a war in her mind because she's come to accept that she wants Five, that she needs him in a way she never could've conceived of, but deep down she still believes she doesn't deserve it and she's afraid that he'll leave her again.

"I want you to be happy and safe for the rest of your days and I want them to be spent with me," Five stresses, his thumb now stroking under her jaw.

She sighs, "Isn't that a little codependent?"

"Yeah, so what?"

The corners of her lips begin to curl. "What if you get tired of me?" she throws out, self-deprecating as always.

"Impossible," he frowns, incredulous. People in general irritated Five, family included, but not Vanya, never Vanya.

She sucks in a gasp and bites the inside of her cheek. Her vision blurs so she shuts her eyes. "Five."

He rolls his shoulders back, sits up a little straighter and says very clearly, "No matter what your bad thoughts tell you, I won't leave you. Unless you explicitly tell me to do so."

Even then he would wait and long and chip away until she let him close again. He didn't think he could bear staying away too long. Not after everything.

She feels all the fight dissolve from within her in an instant, and she moves from her seat to his lap, melting against him. His arms already rising to curl around her protectively. She buries her face into his shoulder.

"Please don't leave me again," she whimpers.

His voice is firm, "I won't, Vanya. I won't."

She cries harder.

"I'm here with you."

She lifts her head to peer up at him, desperately blinking tears away.

"You're home," she confirms. _Home with me_ , she leaves unsaid, but by the way his lips quirk upward she knows he understands it anyway.

A memory comes to her then. They're so young, twelve or thirteen maybe, and Vanya had been waiting for her siblings to return home from a mission. A rush of relief floods through her as soon as she hears them stomp up the stairs. She sticks her head out of her bedroom, silently scanning everyone for injuries. She yelps at the sudden brush of a hand against her elbow. It’s only Five. He had blinked into her bedroom and is currently tugging her back inside.

When she turns around to face him, she's struck by how tired he looks. Five is usually still bursting with energy after a mission, even if he's been injured. High on adrenaline, ready to relay any details if she wishes to know them. Except now the exhaustion wears on him like a shroud.

Her heart stutters when she notices some blood on his face. Logically she knows it's probably not his, but she can't help the distress in her voice when she asks, "Five, are you alright?"

It's a stupid question, she realizes, of course he's not alright.

He doesn't respond, just keeps a grip on her elbow. She swipes a trickle of blood off his brow and he releases a trembling breath.

She moves without thinking. Her arms encircle him, tugging him close. She tucks her head over his shoulder. He pulls her closer, resting his head against the crutch of her shoulder and neck. His nose grazes her pulse point.

"It'll be okay. You don't have to say anything."

He clutches her closer in his arms and takes a deep breath. They're still close in height. Five has yet to have another growth spurt and Vanya is strangely pleased about this.

"Vanya," he sighs against her neck.

"You're here with me. You're home," she whispers reassuringly.

They had stayed curled around each other for a long time with Vanya rubbing his back and Five nuzzling his face along her neck. It was only when Grace had called them down for dinner that they separated.

Now Vanya manages to give Five a wobbly smile as she curls her hands in the collar of his t-shirt. He gazes down at her wearing a tender expression, brushing hair away from her face.

Softly, she says, "I love you."

Five's heart thumps rapidly against his chest and Vanya relishes in the sound. Tentatively, she presses a light kiss to his chin. He pulls her closer, pressing his chest against hers, their heartbeats beginning to sync up.

After some time, Vanya awkwardly shifts in Five's embrace.

"I have something else to tell you," she mumbles, eyes downcast once more.

He grips her chin again, tipping her head up to look at him, "I'm listening."

She swallows the lump in her throat and quietly tells him about the split in her mind. She explains how she views the bitterness and the pure, unfiltered rage inside her as a separate force – The White Violin.

It is hard to keep eye contact with Five the entire time but his face stays nonjudgmental and curious. Vanya can gradually feel some of the weight lift off the more she speaks until eventually she slumps against him, body tired and mind content.

They talk quietly about what this means for training and Vanya finds herself beginning to feel truly hopeful about the future.

-

After they've spent the day lazily getting their bodies reacquainted with one another, Vanya grows bolder with her touches that night. She comes to him first, lavishing claiming kisses on his lips, his chin and down his throat, earning her an appreciative groan. Desire settles over her bones like a warm blanket.

Five returns her fervor, spreading her out on the bed, determined to take her apart slowly this time. He presses open-mouth kisses down her body, smirking into her skin as she whimpers. When he reaches the apex of her thighs, he presses the lightest kisses to her clit and folds. His hands roughly grip her hips as he begins to greedily lick and suck at her cunt, his mouth savoring every drop of her arousal. He alternates between sucking her clit, to long laps along the length of her opening, to burying his tongue deep within her. Vanya mewls and whines above him, sweat and tears intermingling as they pour down her face.

Neither hear the rattling of various objects in the cottage as Vanya reaches orgasm. She brackets his head between her thighs and digs her nails into his scalp.

Five gives her a toothy grin afterward, his lips glistening with her slick. She drags him up to kiss her mouth, melting against the smooth pace of his tongue, tasting herself.

Vanya doesn't know how much time passes, aware of nothing but Five and this room. He grabs her thighs and pulls them around his hips, sliding into her in one smooth thrust. Her nails rake across his shoulders as he begins to fuck her slowly, achingly.

She gives a pained little squeak of pleasure when he presses his thumb to her clit. Her thighs squeezing and shaking around Five's hips and her toes curling as she rocks up into him.

"Please, please, please," she hears herself say, breathless and babbling, unable to control herself anymore.

"I know, sweetheart," he whispers above her, his own voice gone hoarse.

Vanya's next orgasm rolls over her in waves, leaving her trembling and sobbing. Her frame is so slight that Five can feel every shiver that wracks through her. He groans, thrusting into her with urgency, until he comes hard. 

Her face is glittered with tears and so he leans down to kiss them off her cheeks. She can't stop mumbling his name, clinging to him so tightly, her nails sure to leave behind marks. Five will cherish each and every one.

-

They fall back into a familiar routine, but now they have actual conversations. It is oddly domestic. They also have sex. Lots and lots of sex. Five is insatiable and Vanya is very receptive to that. She feels safe inside this bubble of limitless time with him.

Sometimes the rage and the guilt returns to her with blinding force, but Five is good at guiding her back. His heartbeat is still the one thing that instantly calms her.

She will lament to him that she's like a tornado, only good at bringing destruction, at causing pain. But all she needs to hear is that steady thump-thump-thump of his heart and the knot of anxiety in her chest unfurls.

Five takes great pride in this fact, even more so as she gets better with her control. The day she succeeds in maintaining a forcefield of energy, he ravishes her right outside. Haphazardly undressing them both halfway, he fucks her with dual tenderness and ferocity. Vanya loses herself to the overwhelming pleasure, conducting her own symphony with her powers, the wind singing through the trees.

A sunshower descends on them when Vanya reaches her climax. Five commenting wryly that he's just glad it wasn't a downpour.

He seems to not get enough of touching her, especially now that his touch is welcomed. He's constantly nuzzling her and kissing her. Every night he keeps her close, wrapping himself around her protectively. He even holds her when she wakes herself screaming from nightmares some nights.

Tonight after having torn herself back to the waking world from painful night terrors, Five presses delicate kisses along her face. The tender touches causing a torment of emotions to flow through her but the most prominent one being love.

She ends up laying across his chest, absentmindedly drawing music notes into his skin and chest hair. Her mind finally calm. Five's hands warm the expanse of her back, occasionally reaching up the nape of her neck to scratch gently at the soft hair there.

"I used to dream about this," Vanya finds herself mumbling.

The soothing drag of fingers in her hair slows. "About what exactly?" Five asks, his eyebrows raising in curiosity.

"Doing this, with you," she says, suddenly shy. A blush blooms across her face.

Five's chest floods with warmth. "Cuddling?"

She nods.

"From what I recall, we cuddled quite a bit as kids."

"Not naked cuddling," she points out.

He laughs and returns to stroking her hair, the tender ministrations making her drowsy.

Vanya isn't sure why she's bringing this up now but the words leave her mouth before she can halt them. "Whenever I was lonely at night, and I imagined having a partner, you always came to my mind," she says quietly.

With a gentle touch, Five tilts her head up to look at him. It's overwhelming to be the focus of so much want and attention and love, but she withstands it because it's him.

"I dreamed about you too," he assures her.

She smiles, turning her head to kiss his palm first followed by the scar on his wrist.

-

It's an overcast day when they enter the cottage in high spirits after a good training session. Vanya blushing as Five drops a kiss to her forehead then repeating the action when noticing her burning cheeks. He leaves her be to mediate while he goes over some equations in the other bedroom, one he has since turned into an office as he only sleeps in her bed now.

Vanya sits down on the carpeted floor of the living room, willing her mind to empty so that she can just focus on the present, but her eyes settle on a neatly folded piece of paper on the coffee table. Her heart thuds anxiously against her ribcage and her throat goes tight.

Allison's letter.

It's been there for weeks. Every time Vanya goes to reach for it, she remembers the sound of slicing her sister's throat and the feeling of her blood slipping through her fingers.

With trembling hands, she tentatively picks it up. It's a long letter from the looks of it. The notion makes Vanya smile a little because Allison has always loved the sound of her own voice so it's no wonder that trait would transfer to written words.

Vanya reads the letter. She reads it several times, over and over. She doesn't even realizes she's sobbing until a hand comes to rest on her shoulder.

An anguished wail bursts from her throat. Five pulls her into his lap, his body shielding her from invisible threats, even ones from her own mind. He rocks her gently, murmuring soothing nonsense in her ear.

Before long, her sobs cease and she is left feeling guilty once more. Allison's letter stays clutched in her hand, her tight grip crinkling the paper.

For a long moment, she sits very still in Five's lap.

"You know you can call her," he says neutrally.

Vanya knows he's spoken with Allison a handful times while they've been here, along with the others as well. Insidious thoughts slink in her mind. She lets the feeling of betrayal wash over her briefly before she takes a deep breath, centering herself.

She hums in acknowledgment.

There's a teardrop stain on the word 'support' near the bottom of the page. She stares at it, uncertain if it came from her or Allison, but the sight of it makes her ache terribly.

That stain moves her to act. She extracts herself from Five, walking over to the phone and begins dialing without much thought. She can feel Five watching her carefully.

Vanya holds her breath as the phone rings and it hitches once someone picks up. At the sound of Allison's voice, her face crumples and she cries in earnest.

"Allison," she wails into the phone.

Five can faintly hear the surprised cry of their sister on the other line and takes it as his cue to leave them to talk and heal.

-

This cottage feels like home to her now, _their home_. They even go out to the closest town sometimes, Vanya dragging Five into any interesting stores that catch her eye. She feels safe and secure. She thinks she's getting to feel comfortable in her skin for the first time in her life. There are still bad days, days where she can't get out of bed, despite Five's gentle coaxing, but they are getting rarer.

Dusk is settling over the forest that surrounds them. Vanya watches from her seat on the porch steps. She hears Five before she feels him sit down beside her. She leans into his side, seeking extra warmth, and he throws an arm over her shoulder.

They sit in the quiet together, only the sounds of nature accompanying them.

Eventually, Vanya asks softly, "Five, can we stay here a while?"

He studies her with his eyes, careful and sharp and concerned. "Of course."

She turns to him, "And what if I never want to leave?"

"Okay," he agrees.

Her brow knits together in confusion, "Okay?"

"It doesn't really matter to me where we are, as long as we're together."

"Five," she sighs in awe, so full of love for this man, her sole confidante, her best friend she thought she lost forever.

"Vanya," he says quietly but firmly, "it took me so long to get home, and there were times when I worried that I might never succeed. So just existing here with you, I'll take it."

Taking his face in her hands, she presses a bruising kiss on his lips. He sighs into it, giving her an opening to slide her tongue in along his.

Vanya focuses on his heartbeat, quickening in its pace as they begin to lose themselves in each other. Eventually, with reluctance, she puts her hands on his chest and breaks away from his mouth, panting heavily. Five still peppers a few more kisses on her chin and cheeks, unwilling to completely extricate from her.

They share a grin.

She rests her head on his shoulder, pressing her nose against his neck. He kisses her temple and takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

Vanya is enjoying learning to walk through the world with more power thrumming in her veins, but what she's enjoying most is spending time with Five, making new memories for the years they lost. No longer does she have to walk through life alone and lonely, and neither does Five.

They both feel like they can't exist anywhere anymore, and it might be true, it might not be, but they have each other and that's enough for them now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading 💕💕💕💕💕
> 
> i wish this was better written. in my head it made much more sense, but i'm still proud of myself for finishing this story


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